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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25662142">Atomic</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokichoki/pseuds/Lokichoki'>Lokichoki</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Criminal Minds (US TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Fluff, Hotch just loves Reid, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-Graphic Smut, Pining, Smut, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, They're both so oblivious, reid just wants to be loved</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:20:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>42,376</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25662142</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokichoki/pseuds/Lokichoki</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know,” the boy started, voice lower than a whisper. Aaron hummed in response, eyes fluttering shut. “Atoms never actually touch, so people never really fit together or even come into real contact. That’s what I would always remind myself when we brushed together or hugged or anything, but now? I think that that theory can be proven wrong. I think that we fit together,”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>71</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. to kiss in bars</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i got bored lmao</p><p> </p><p>make sure to comment n leave kudos so i can write more :)</p><p>ps i don't have an editor/beta yet so excuse any mistakes.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
  <em>
    <span>Lights, music, heat, him- </span>
  </em>
  <span>that was what was on Spencer's mind. Every single Friday. Every time. No matter what, the small team at the bureau would always meet for drinks every Friday after work. Almost every day of the week, he felt tormented, not only by his line of work, grueling cases, and sensory issues he faced every day- even that he was able to manage. What made Reid want to bang his head against a wall until he stopped breathing was something that'd seem so significant to anyone outside of his small friend circle- a gold band. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The band shone on the fluorescent light that belonged to the ceiling of the club they frequented at. The group belongs to the fourth finger of a long and merely mesmerizing hand—the hand belonging to the sturdy arm of a man. The arm belonged to the body of his boss, Aaron Hotchner. Reid had resented that band for as long as he had known its owner. In his mind, it mocked him of what might've been in his life and what he didn't have and wanted the most- him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Reid was content in every other aspect of his life. He had trusting friends; he was charming and had overcome almost everything the world flung at him. He was tremendously successful as well as physically healthy and sane. He had a home that he filled with his possessions, and he had hobbies, he had money, he loved his job. What else could there be that was missing? No matter how many times Reid had tried to simply shake the thoughts that he had of his greater, he couldn't. It had gone on for years and years, beginning as a physical attraction the moment he stepped into the room for his interview for the unit. It didn't last long, however. Most of the interview was focused on Spencer's own mind, where the man in front of him had him pinned onto his desk, doing him senseless and without shame. This, he remembers, lasted for close to two years. He wouldn't be able to get any work done, let alone even analyze his own thoughts when he was in a room with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Lust turned to love the day that Reid was almost gone from the Earth. He had been taken by a deranged murderer, and Hotchner was his only way to safety. He remembered a case over a year prior to where Hotch had done a similar job as he would, and the trust in him had paid off. They had got to him right before he would've died- again. The experience was surreal for him, but the dependency that he had on his boss had shifted to narcotics, something Reid to this day swears was a healthier choice than trying to seduce the S.S.A. As Reid became more vulnerable and closer with his superior, his addiction to the artificial had changed to the addiction in his mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    There had been a night at a London club that the team had gone to where Spencer had violated all of his morals and several corporate laws. He recalls a consultation on a string of terrorist attacks that the team had taken on, and vividly remembers Hotchner letting them both get absolutely</span>
  <em>
    <span> hammered. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Reid was a man of logic, but somehow all of his defenses and intellect came tumbling down when he was with his friend. He finds it so funny that how up until that night he believed that drunk thoughts and actions radiate the sober ones, but just because of a </span>
  <em>
    <span>slip up</span>
  </em>
  <span> that his supervisor had with him that night, all of the facts of that had become less important. Less credible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That night Spencer was looking for what he always had been on Friday- jokes, and sex. He had never been to London before, and he knew that the underground scene for gay hookups was absolutely incredible there. He recalls wearing constricting pants with a loose buttoned tee, Emily styling his hair to a way she deemed fit. The club was colorful, filled with warm aromatic touches as well as the heat of bodies pressed up against one another. He felt himself blush deeply as he always has at the sight of it, looking down at his feet before following the others who leaped in. Cocktail after cocktail, shot after shot, the team had condensed slowly as they started to dance with whoever was available. Reid and Hotch were finally the last left, staring down at their half-full drinks in silence, feeling the strong pulse of the music as well as their heart rhythms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That book that you recommended at the airport," Hotch said, eyes still fixated on the ripples of his whiskey caused by the bass. Spencer found himself looking up intensely slow, taking in the sincerity and curiosity in his voice. Spencer hums in response, focusing on what the older man was to say. "Do you believe in it?" He whispered, looking up to the boy, eyes locking sternly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reid felt like he was going to burst. He was being stared at with such intense emotion, warm eyes focusing in on his cold ones. He scanned the room, thinking of how to respond to such a question. Today, at the duty-free bookstore in the large airport they had landed in, Spencer found an abundance of poetry as well as Japanese literature. He picked up as many as he could until he nearly toppled over, the boy was of course going to have to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> to keep him busy. He trips backward and Aaron is right there behind him, his chest followed by arms cushioning Spencer's body and new books. "Anything you like? Haven't read before? Though I highly doubt there even is a book out there that you haven't looked at." Hotchner scoffed jokingly, stuffing his hands in pockets once he had found his balance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Actually yes, I haven't gotten to some of these when I've been meaning to for a while, sir." The older man cocked his brow in response, smirking. "But but but but-"Reid started, trying to look through his new assortment, "I did actually pick up a second one for my S.S.A., reminded me of you" he smiled widely, nearly shoving the book into Aaron's chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's-"he paused, admiring the cover design then the design of the eyes of the man he looked back at, "You never fail to make me happy, Spencer." He said, smiling as wide as the sun. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You too, sir," Spencer said back sincerely. On the way towards the police station, Hotchner had skimmed through the short story selection in the vehicle, until one, in particular, had caught his eye. It was something regarding </span>
  <em>
    <span>love at second sight</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It interprets as knowing that you're going to fall in love with someone no matter what happens or the circumstances- you simply just don't know when. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The loud music in the club sped up again as Reid started to associate himself with the area once again, clearing his throat. "Well, sir. What I </span>
  <em>
    <span>believe </span>
  </em>
  <span>is that you should have a few more drinks and that there's a tiny little lady over there who's been staring you down all night" he hiccups, articulating on the last words. Aaron sighs, taking another shot and staring right back at the younger boy next to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Spencer." He managed. Reid looked at him and then giggled. A giggle turned into a fit of it and it took a while for him to calm down. "I didn't say anything, Reid," Hotch said monotonously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's better!" He pointed "You, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sir</span>
  </em>
  <span>, never call me </span>
  <em>
    <span>Spencer</span>
  </em>
  <span>." Reid said, gagging jokingly at his pass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Reid you know what I was talking about and you know that wasn't the right answer." Aaron shot back, voice soft. Spencer looked at the man again, and in return for the look, he took two more shots. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fine," Their eyes met again. "There's this guy that I know, okay?" Aaron's heart fell to his feet. He wasn't sure why- maybe the alcohol, but that sentence didn't sit right with the boss. He hummed quietly, urging for him to continue. "First time I met him, he was like so fucking hot. Like I mean it, sir, his looks were absolutely striking." The two of them took another sip of whatever the hell it was they were having, they were at the point where the bartenders were throwing whatever at them. "But I knew that no matter how much I was set on being his, I knew that I would end up getting hurt and falling in love." Hotchner began stroking his own thigh with his hands, trying to ground himself. "And, well. I did, sir. I hope that answers your question." Reid sighed, looking at his feet. He dropped it and nodded in return. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a few more moments of more drinks until Aaron had finally felt ready enough to speak to the boy again. "Doctor!" He yelled over the music, smile wide as it had ever been. Reid looked back at him, watching him stand up and fix himself for a moment. "Come on, dance with me," he pleaded to his subordinate. Reid was drunk, maybe, but how could he possibly refuse an offer as outrageous as this one? He got up instantly and they tried to make their way inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sex and pure arousal was the scent on the floor, but neither of them cared. In fact, the smell was intoxicating for them both, their presence is the most powerful to each other. Spencer began to grind against the man, slowly and sloppy. Hotch sighed in response. The two of them had to have repeated the cycle and danced for about an hour, sweat accumulating and bodies crowding. Spencer turned to face his senior at a point, both arms around his neck, tied together. Aaron leaned into the touch, closing his eyes for a moment. His arms slowly make his way down the young doctor's torso until they reach the space under his waist. He squeezes it gently and the boy lets out a small gasp in response. The sway like this for a while until one of them says what was on both of their minds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sir?" Aaron hummed in response, pulling their bodies closer together. His body was absolutely boiling from all of the alcohol and arousal in his veins, but he was still absolutely committed in being as intimate with the boy as he could, knowing that no matter what he would get himself to be so hammered he wouldn't remember a single thing from the night. He hums in response to his agent. "What I told you earlier," he whispered, sounding completely vulnerable and defenseless. For the first time, Doctor Spencer Reid had let his guard completely down, for anyone. The boy had nuzzled his head into the book of Hotchner's neck, his hair soft and messy on his skin. "That guy who I referred to- he was you, sir." Aaron stopped swaying with the boy at that moment, breaking the comfort that they had established. His neck snapped so he could look into the boy's eyes, his body language. He had hoped to god it was a lie, it wasn't. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Spencer Reid," his voice was low, cautious, and laced with compassion. The boy's brows furrowed in response, he was scared. "Kiss me until I can't speak," he said, leaning in "And for the love of God, would you</span>
  <em>
    <span> please</span>
  </em>
  <span> stop calling me sir?" Spencer chuckled in response, closing the small gap between reality and truth and mistake and sin. The kisses felt as if they lasted for hours, starting slow- sometimes staying slow. Hotchner tried desperately to keep him close, thinking. Thinking about how he would feel if this could be a reality. Thinking about how he felt without kissing those two lips every morning evening and night. Thinking about losing the boy, never feeling his weight against him again. Thinking about how vulnerable they were, how much they needed each other. They stood on the floor lip locked until the younger boy pulled away and didn't attempt to reconnect the two souls again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm so sorry, we uh. We need a drink. Or ten." He said, wiping his lips and scurrying off. Hotchner sighed, arms still extended in a sad attempt to keep him there. He returned to a bartender and ordered shots for himself and himself alone, frowning. Spencer remembers finding a blonde man built like a god who took him to his home that night, he had been sober ever since he and his supervisor kissed for the first time on the floor earlier that night. He needed a break, it wasn't real. He thought while the sounds of his and the other boy's weight on the bed caused heavy and deep pitches from the mattress they were above. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reid was more than screwed. A subordinate who not only crossed the line by drinking alone with his boss, not only grinding up against his boss and feeling his body up and down, not only making out with his boss, no. That was the least of it. He had confessed his need for sex with his superior, then his undying love. He was more than fired. He would lose Hotch. Reid sighed as the tall god released in him, toppling over on the bed and laying beside him. "Thank you," Reid blurted. The man propped himself up by the elbows, perplexed look. "I um- I have to go now, but you're absolutely stunning and </span>
  <em>
    <span>really. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> good in bed." Reid smiled, throwing his clothes back on, grabbing his satchel and scurrying off to the hotel the team was staying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hotchner couldn't remember anything from the night prior, genuinely questioning the marks that Reid had planted all over his collarbone at the club. He sighed in relief and sat down on the padded chair of the jet. It's</span>
  <em>
    <span> over, Reid</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He thought to himself, eyes closing for the first time since the day at the club days ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reid was back at the bar in Quantico with his colleagues, still staring at the same band he had been minutes before he allowed his mind to wander back to London. He felt a gaze on him now that he was back in his head and the moment, following it until his vision was met with the eyes of the ring's owner. It was a lovely ring, really- he just selfishly didn't like the ring displayed on the owner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I-uh, did you know that 46% of married couples are most likely to file for divorce simply because of their large wedding cost. This doubles in likelihood if the engagement ring is worth more than one thousand dollars. This is actually due to not only economic stressors of the husband, but the feeling that because he set the bar so high for himself- being his confidence was boosted because the more money you have, the more sex you'd have to get the money, the more orgasms you'd have to fake with your partner, just to simply get married, can you believe that? Just to watch the bar fall to the ground. Most wives end up cheating on their husbands because of work, stressors with the child or children, monetary problems, or even sexuality. Most men actually file a divorce because of performance in bed, their own infidelity, sometimes with other men, clash of character, mistrust, even pressure on having children. Most straight men who remarried or even get into a new relationship are more likely to break it off than a gay man- typically a married one because again statistically gay men who were in a 'straight' marriage will be more likely to pick a good partner for them. Most of them already having sex or meeting before the divorce was even filed or the former couple even met." Reid said as fast as he could to the man in front of him. He looked to his expression and immediately downed a large swing of a beer on the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Doctor Reid, those facts are interesting, sure," Aaron started, the agents that surrounded the tall table awaiting an angry reaction from the superior, staring intently. "But it's always best to not bring things to me like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>up, especially with other agents around. It violates protocol and it's very unprofessional. I understand, but try not to next time, okay?" He looked at the young boy with remorse and intent. Spencer nodded apologetically and excused himself to get another drink, Aaron walking the opposite direction to the bathrooms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reid was reprimanding himself for saying something that bold and absolutely out of line to his boss, let alone in front of others. He scolded profanities to himself, pacing the area with the drinks. He came to the conclusion that no matter what, at least he didn't say it outright. He didn't tell his boss" </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hi, I thought about the time we broke the law during the London case and how I hate that ring, you should get a divorce!" </span>
  </em>
  <span>He laughs at himself and his pathetic social skills, taking one last sip before the glass of vodka was empty. He walks over to the table the bartender was working, and he gently slides over his cup. "Do you have any champagne? I want to celebrate how absolutely pathetic I am," he grimaced, not looking up at the woman on the other side of the bar. She handed him a glass of the sparkling beverage as well as a smile with remorse. He sipped on the drink gently, they still had a high profile case in the morning and he needed to be ready. He scans the patrons sitting at the bartenders counter, and notices a handsome man who catches his eye. His hair was dark with a hint of honey and rose, and the man had eyes that looked so inviting to him. The man's gaze met his and he offered a shy smile with plenty of confidence trailing behind. The man makes his way over after a few more minutes of staring at each other and takes the seat next to Reid's gingerly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My name's Tom, I work as an assistant media consultant for the White House. I like to paint- watercolor is my favorite, I read a lot, and in my free time, I like to look into science and math. But I want to be as forward as I can since my therapist has recommended it, but I'd love spending time with you to be what takes up most of it, now. And who might you be?" Spencer was taken aback, not only by his intellect and job but the fact that he was so open and knew that he was attracted to him- he made a move toward a </span>
  <em>
    <span>relationship</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You- you don't just want sex?" Tom scoffed and nodded his head intently. Reid sighed. He decided to go along with it and see where it would lead. "I'm special agent doctor Spencer Reid, I work for the behavioral analysis unit of the FBI but I also do scientific and engineering consults by request. I have high social anxiety, and I have a lot, and I mean a lot of baggage." The man grabbed Reid's hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You seem like such a wonderful guy, that's why I was so forward, man. There's something so attractive about your demeanor and your personality, I know that you deal with criminals and all sorts of nonsense so you might not trust me, but I'm trying to be bold and shoot my shot. It's totally fine to say no, I would honestly do the same if I were you but," Spencer laughed, taking the hand and squeezing it. "Can I have your cell? I would love to take you out sometime," Spencer beamed with happiness as he opened up his phone and handed it to the man as he did the same. The two talked for nearly an hour, and Reid felt as if a weight had been relieved from his shoulders, even if it only was by a little. Maybe he had been going about the whole "sleep with as many people as you can do you can avoid the ounce of free time that you allow yourself" thing wrong. Maybe at least trying to get back in a relationship with someone would be so much better. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, Tom," he looked back at the man who beamed at him. "This is also going to sound crazy, but I really admire you and I think I like you a lot." His tone was bashful and unsure, but he knew this was the best and what he wanted. "Do you um- do you want to be my date? My um- my boyfriend I mean," he said, coming out as a whisper. The boy earned a kiss to the forehead in return, which caused both of them to turn a light rose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the other side of the bar, the team was dancing around a stoic supervising agent in an attempt to bring in as much fun they could. He sighed as he twiddled his thumbs around his wedding band, thinking about how many times Reid was right in what he said. Thinking about how he drove him crazy every day. Thinking about how much love he had in his heart for the boy. Thinking about him. Prentiss approached Hotch from behind and quietly asked if he'd like another drink. "I guess that I'll take a wine, thank you, Emily." He said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a bit, but Emily returned drinks, and refreshments on a platter and a smile across her face. "You'll never guess!" She said, pointing to each person to assume something absolutely absurd. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Spit it out, Ms. Prentiss," Hotchner said through clenched teeth after 4 agonizing minutes of drunken guesses. The team shifted their attention to their leader and his sad eyes, then to Emily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Reid has a new love interest, he's here, and he's going to come over and introduce himself now with him!" She said happily, and playful banter erupted in the group. The world was slow and he felt as if all of his soul had just left his body. He felt like a shell. It could always be a joke, a small poke to Emily for bothering him at the bar or anything of the sort, or he could be with someone. It made him woozy, but why should he care? Reid wasn't his property, Reid wasn't his wife. His business is his business, he repeated to himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately for him, the boy came into the area of the bar that they sat glowing, genuinely glowing. Hotchner put his fingers onto his temple and started to slowly rub circles in to calm himself down. He felt upset, angry, almost jealous. He knew he was jealous. He was mad with his morals, had they not existed, he would've at least had a chance of being with the boy one way or another. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man beside him had a physique similar to a combination of his and Derek's. His features were soft yet striking. He was younger than Hotch, but not by much, he began to profile the man whose hands were interlocked with the doctors. His name was Tom, he liked sports and art from what he had picked up as he went from person to person shaking hands. He had reached Hotchner, and Spencer stood behind his new beau with an ounce of remorse and awkwardness in the boy's eyes. "And this is my supervisor, Mr. Hotchner." He said hesitantly. Tom extended his hand and Aaron reciprocated with a strong handshake and a fake smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How are you? How's your family?" He spoke to him, gesturing to his wedding band. The man asked the supervisor with no negative intent, but that was the last straw for Aaron. For a moment he thought about Hayley waiting at home with his son, there was no excuse for his jealousy towards the man in front of him. Spencer was his own person, and Aaron had absolutely no right to be jealous or feel anything for him other than respect as a member of the family and a coworker at the bureau. There was no excuse for the yearning he had to touch his employer, to pin him against a wall, to tell him how much he loved him, to admire his sharp feminine curves and-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They're all well, thank you." He began. The man then pretended to look into his phone at a message. "Reid, are you sober?" He asked, not looking up at the boy. Years of experience taught him how to be one of the best liars in the world, no matter what he wanted, he would get it. He looked up as the boy hummed a "yes", nodding in return. "I'd like you to come to Quantico with me," he began, getting up and reaching into his wallet. "I've developed a theory about our unsub and since you fit the victimology so well, I'm proposing for you to join me." His voice was more than monotone, it sounded completely empty. As if there wasn't a person inside of him anymore. "The second you're in my office, I'll file in your overtime hours. Caroline would really like for me to consult on the case early, and I need your intellect for once." He said, attempting to belittle his subordinate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Now? Sir, I'm not sure how necessary that is. Yes, this is a high profile case and it's important we don't lose any more victims but-" he was cut off when Aaron put a hand onto his shoulder and squeezed it tight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Look, kid. You come with me and we can pass by whatever restaurant you'd like on the way to go, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please."</span>
  </em>
  <span> Spencer read the look in his eyes, and he froze like a deer facing a car. He nodded, and the men said their goodbyes before grabbing their jackets and heading to the door. "I'll drive, I'm guessing that you walked anyway. I just ask for you not to talk too much on the way there." At this point, Reid was genuinely concerned for the other man, but he again couldn't complain. He had the whole floor alone with the guy. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. theories and hope</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>i might finish this whole thing this week idk</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>      His eyes were focused directly on the road in front of him. Reid started to profile the situation, the smell of Japanese food in the back was the only thing that he could detect in the car besides the normal residual hints of lavender and wooden cologne. Most people would be this tense, especially with someone else in the car with them for a multitude of reasons. The most common are unreleased or unaddressed anger, control of anger or expression, and unresolved sexual tension and buildup. He watched Hotch's eyes as they stayed put, barely blinking. He noted this slightly and continued to hum to the classical music he was allowed on. The drive to and from D.C to Quantico was never a long one, but the events of today is what made it unbearable. Reid actually laughed once they had passed the first security checkpoint in the town. The sooner he was out of the car, the better.<br/>     Reid didn’t look too much into the behavior of his friend as they progressed through the buildings on the commute to the BAU office. Hotch was Hotch, strict, stern, and typically uptight- especially around cases. Reid started to reflect on the case as they neared the area as well as how hungry he was and how enticing the food had smelled in the small space of the elevator. They had finally reached the eighth floor, and the two rushed out and into the room. Reid excused himself to his desk to retrieve the files of the case as well as collect his own thoughts. The time was nearing the second hour of the morning, and the boy was starting to shut down.<br/>     “Hotchner! Make you a coffee?” He shouted in the direction towards his office, rushing to the break room himself before he collapsed.<br/>     “Please” was the response, the older man had settled into his office and studied the portrayal of a crime scene below him from the comfort of his desk chair.<br/>     The two were sitting at the desk for hours, and it had just broken the second hour of the day. Reid rubbed his eyes and yawned tiredly, blinking several times to focus on the file opposite of his boss’ on his desk. Hotch watched him carefully, eyes squaring in onto the dark circles under the younger man’s. “You look tired, should we take a break?” He asked, closing the file. Reid sighed, standing up from his seat. His legs faltered for a bit as the blood rushed back into place. The superior followed suit, analysing the trinkets and old books that adorned his shelves on the wall. Reid watched as his large hands skimmed the covers of the books so carefully, the atmosphere of the room becoming heavier every second.<br/>     “So what was that about in the bar tonight?” Reid inquired cautiously, he was clearly in sensitive territory. His boss turned around, letting out a sigh. “I mean not that I don’t enjoy consulting on cases and all! I really enjoy your company and I appreciated the food, it was delicious. I’m just a bit confused, that’s all.” It came out fast, in a single breath out. Hotch walked closer to the young genius and gestured for him to sit on the couch on the far side of the room.<br/>     “Spencer.”<br/><br/>     “Sir,”</p><p><br/>     Hotchner stood in front of the man, being cautious not to sit on the couch. “I need to tell you something more than unprofessional. It oversteps almost every boundary we have and I simply can’t take it anymore.” The boy looked up at his supervisor, breath in his chest and hands gripped on the tweed of the couch cushions. He heaved a breath out, the silence deafening. “I understand if you’d have to report me for this as well, I take full responsibility and I am more than sorry for telling you and feeling obligated to, it’s selfish of me.” At this point, Hotch was contemplating what he was willing to reveal regarding his love for the boy, stumbling on his careful words. “Spencer, what I did tonight in the bar- it was absolutely out of line. I shouldn’t have taken you away from your friends as well as that man, it was completely unprofessional. I know that this doesn’t make much sense at all, what I’m going to say, and again, I am so sorry”<br/>    “Sir?” Spencer was on the verge of sweating, gripping onto the couch until all he could feel was the fast beating of his own heart.<br/>    “Reid, I find you to be the most attractive, enticing person that I’ve met. I know for sure that I mean it as my attraction to you has only gotten worse throughout the years that I’ve known you, and my attraction to Hayley becoming lesser and lesser. I know how bad that sounds, but my god Spence, I want you. I want you so bad. And please, scream, hit me, report me, get me fired- I shouldn’t be feeling this way towards you and it’s all too much for me. I’m not making any sense, I know, but with you I just feel vulnerable. I’m sorry.” Hotch maintained eye contact with the man across from him, staring deep into the chocolate orbs.<br/>     Reid was going to throw up. He was genuinely going to throw up. He tried to process the situation as much as he could, thinking about where he should go from here. Either way, he had to say or do something, so he did whatever his brain thought of first. Apparently, that was to laugh in the older man’s face.<br/>Hotcher’s face faltered at Reid’s reaction, but at least he hadn’t called the chief and ran for the hills, he thought. He kept a stoic face as well as he could until he noticed the boy get up and watch his feet carry himself towards Aaron. The boy finally stopped laughing, and had tilted his head up to meet the former attorney’s gaze. He stared into his eyes with a quizzical look, his orbs dilating fully. The distance between them was absolutely magnetic. His hand reached for Reid’s waist, earning a yearning sigh from the boy. Reid’s hands snaked around the back of his neck, their breath caught in the small space between each other. The two were slow to embrace, admiring each other's close features. Perfections, flaws, presence, the entire room felt distant as the two bodies moulded into one. “You know,” the boy started, voice lower than a whisper. Aaron hummed in response, eyes fluttering shut. “Atoms never actually touch, so people never really fit together or even come into real contact. That’s what I would always remind myself when we brushed together. When we hugged, or anything, really. But now? I think that that theory can be proven wrong. I think that we fit together,”<br/>      Hotch felt as if he was going to melt with the boy in his arms, his entire body heating up. “I think we do too, Spence.”<br/>The gap between the two finally closed, and time seemed to stop. For the first time in years, Reid felt safe and loved. He felt needed. The kiss was slow and full of words that could never be said, and seemed to last a lifetime. He pulled away, panting softly. He analyzed the look in Aaron’s eyes, then the crickles that formed after a moment. For the first time in a while, Hotchner’s smile was wide and contagious. Reid giggled, burying his head into Hotchner’s chest. “I am so in love with you,” The sound was muffled by the heavy fabric of the suit, but it was heard. Aaron couldn’t stop smiling, he was almost numb. He was expecting to be woken by a phone for a case and to wake up right next to Hayley Hotchner in their bed, but he didn’t.<br/>     “Hey,” He looked down at the boy's hair, placing his left hand in the mess of it and bringing it down to his chin softly. He used his fingers to lift the doctor’s head up to meet his gaze once again. “I love you too, I didn’t know how to say it.”     Reid kisses him again after a moment, this time much more aggressive and passionately. Hotch is caught off guard, but quick to regain control of his subordinate once again. Spencer makes this sound, this almost inhumane sound, but it’s only a sound that he could make, and Aaron wanted to hear it again and again and again.<br/>     So that’s exactly what he did. Aaron Hotchner got what he wanted.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. tired eyes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>enjoy a horrible chapter (in my opinion) , comment and leave kudos for more &lt;3</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>      In a swift motion, he pushed Reid against the window, lifting the vest right off of his small body. Spencer curses, scolding the older man, quickly pushing a hand to his hair and pulling him, closing the blinds with the other. </span>
  <em>
    <span>We’re doing this.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He thought, heart beating faster than the speed of sound. He lets out a large moan against Hotch’s lips, then directs his mouth down the older man's jawline, down to his neck. Hotch lets out a sound similar to a growl, tightening his grip around Reid’s hips. His breath is hot on his neck, and Hotch can’t breathe. The room turns into a concerto of gasps and sighs and moans, small notes of encouragement and love dropping themselves into the narrative at every rest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>      Lips still locked tighter than a safe, Hotch messily undid Reid’s tie, then the buttons of the profiler’s shirt. Reid swung his head back, sighing his name. Aaron undid his own tie and shirt, his buckle dropping onto the desk across the room with a thud. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>By the time the two had finished and settled down, the sun began to rise into the unit chief’s Quantico office. Reid had fallen asleep on the couch wearing nothing but his boxers and Aaron’s suit jacket (the boy insisted on wearing his clothes now), and Hotchner was sitting at his desk reviewing the case for the day. His focus on his files were soft as he heard the slow breathing of the other man in the room. He was aware of how bad of a situation he put himself in by sleeping with Reid, but he didn’t care. He knows that it was more than that and he knows that it was the best sex he’s probably ever had. He knows how the doctor makes him feel and he knows what he does to the other boy. They had spent most of their time awake talking about how they felt and taking in each other's presence. Hotch actually began to wonder when the last time was where he smiled so much. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>As he sat and watched the kid dream, he tried to dream himself. How could they possibly work? He loved Jack more than anything in his life, so he couldn’t possibly leave his mother, that would mean leaving his son as well. He thought about finding a way to keep Reid and raise Jack with him, but that could mean leaving Hayley and his job. It all went back to his wife. His wife, who he had just cheated on. His wife, no matter how hard it had been, he stayed with and never tried to even the score or get revenge on. He tried to convince himself this didn’t make him a bad person, that her many affairs would equate with his and they could raise their son however they pleased. He knew that would never work, but he still hoped. He hoped, god, he hoped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>         The bustle of the bureau headquarters had resumed as Aaron began to hear the whirring of the elevator and the clanking of footsteps coming from upstairs and outside. He watched from his desk as Spencer began to shift in position, sighing as he woke up slowly. It had taken the young profiler a few minutes to rise up on the couch, becoming aware of his surroundings. He looked out at the window, staring at the sun during daybreak, then blinked a few times to become aware of the office he was in. His neck shifted slowly, down to what he wore and Hotchner could see his nose twitch slightly, taking in the smell of the suit. Two hazel eyes soon met his own dark chocolate ones, a soft focus with it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Good morning, Dr. Reid,” Aaron spoke with a smile. Spencer’s jaw fell to the floor, and he quickly shot up from where he sat, pacing the room. He pinched himself repeatedly, slapping his face and mumbling to himself. Hotch got up abruptly, making his way to the boy and wrapping his arms around him tightly. “I know. I’m here, this is real. I’m sorry.” He whispered. He slowly allowed his arms to snake around Aaron’s waist, burying his face as deep as he could into the other man. “Can you get dressed? We need to talk about this and the work day is starting soon.” He said softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       Spencer looked up at him, his face was stoic as he removed Aaron’s large jacket from his petite body, handing it to him. He picked up his clothes from different parts of the room, putting them on as he retrieved them. He eventually sits down at the chair opposite of Aaron at his desk, shuffling awkwardly in the seat. “Before you say anything, I know that this could never work,” Reid said after a long sigh. Aaron shifted back in his chair, focusing on the pen that he balanced in his hand. He offered the boy a sad smile, took a deep breath and thought about his next move. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “I meant what I said yesterday, Spence. I love you, but this is just too much. It’s a dangerous idea and I don’t think anything permanent can come out of it. I care about you </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> much, and I will always want to keep you safe and care for you, never forget that” he started, watching Reid sniff a bit. “I want you to know, I don’t think that I ever felt better than I did tonight with you in my arms. I don’t think I ever felt safer. I’ve wanted you for so, so long and to finally have you- even if it was only for a few hours, to tell you everything that was left unsaid … Reid, it meant everything to me. You mean the world to me and nothing can change how I feel towards you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>        “I know how much you love Hayley and Jack as well. As wrong as this was, it just felt so perfect to me. Hotch, I’ve been through a lot since I've joined the bureau, but- and I mean it when I say this. Tonight, I think it’s healed me. There’s an ancient art style in Japan where they upcycle broken cups by putting them back together with solid gold, making the broken beautiful. You’ve done that for me, I feel whole. And I know that this is probably a one time thing and all, it shouldn’t have even happened, of course. But for me once is enough, wanting was enough, this is almost more than enough for me, so thank you, and I love you.” Reid said, sighing. Hotchner found himself on the verge of tears at the sentiment, once again admiring the features of the boy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “It’s funny, really. I'm a man of science and fact, but no matter what, I don’t think I can ever stop loving you. You’re so intelligent, and beautiful, and just enticing, god. I want nothing more than to protect you as well, maybe that can be our bond.” Reid finished. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>        “I’d like that,” Hotch said, smiling wide. He started to hear voices and footsteps in the bullpen, so he got up and locked the door to his office, ensuring the blinds were still closed. “I’m going to kiss you, one last time. I hope that that’s okay,” Spencer nodded, leaning in and letting the weight of his long eyelashes shut his eyes. The kiss lasted as long as they both could, it was soft, gentle, and full of sorrow. Reid pulled away, corners of his mouth forming a sad smile. Hotchner sat at his desk once again, Spencer watching intently as he rummaged through desk drawers. Finally, he had found what he was in search of. A long, crimson case adorned in a satin fabric. He handed it to Reid, who studied it for a moment before opening the hatch. Inside was the most costly looking pen he had seen, shining as bright as the sun in the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Consider it a memory of our 8 hour love affair.” Hotch said, trying to laugh. “It was a gift I received from a family during my attorney years. I know how much you love to write.” Reid looked up at him, expression heavy. The boy lunged at his supervisor, gripping onto him tightly from over the desk. He broke out into loud sobs, and Aaron began to let a few tears roll down his own face in response. He gripped the genius as tight as he could, taking in any possible emotion he was feeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>         “I love you,” Spencer repeated over muffled sobs, as if it was almost a prayer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>         “Love you too, Spence. Don’t forget it,” he cooed, pulling away. Reid had got up to receive his messenger bag from the corner of the room, and Hotch unlocked his office door and slowly opened the blinds, revealing the bullpen beneath him. “When you’re ready, go out into the hall and make yourself a coffee, you look tired. If anyone asks we looked at the consult and then a bunch of cold cases. And if you would, this is between us, please.” He rubbed his temples slowly, not even daring to imagine what the reaction would be to him sleeping with Reid. He nodded, hand now at the door. “Oh, and Spence?” The boy looked up. “That was the best sex I think I’ve ever had, thanks. See you at the round table.” He nodded bashfully, and just like that, he was gone. Hotch groaned as he watched the boy run down the stairs to meet the team who had been staring into the direction of the office, then plopping himself down on the couch and started to review files, taking in Reid’s smell and starting the work day. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. fraternizing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>in case anyone's curious this story started a little after gideon left. this is a bit of a filler, but enjoy</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>      Spencer curtly shut the door, heart beating louder than the bass at a club. He rushed down the hall and took a left, heading to Garcia’s office. He and the tech genius had become closer after the departure of Greenaway, bonding over the small interests that they both had shared. He knocked on the door desperately, and he was immediately pulled in, the girl had almost thrown him to the floor. “You’ve interrupted my gaming, boy wonder,” She started, glaring jokingly. Reid sat himself down in the corner of the room. “Whatever this is, it better be good. Roundtable won’t start for nearly 30 minutes.” Spencer sighed, watching Garcia return to her monitors. He knew that she would listen, he knew he wouldn’t reveal anything, either. He just needed company.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>      “Can I actually see a physical copy of the rule book?” the doctor asked, lower than a whisper. Garcia looked at him curiously as he headed his head behind his hair, staring at the thumbs he had been twiddling. She mumbled something in agreement, simply too bored to really even care about the source of his embarrassment. Reid failed to look upset, so Penelope knew to leave it alone. She handed Spencer the book, muttered something once again, and returned right to her RPG game. Spencer had lolled his head back into the chair, relaxing his aching body as much as he could in the small space. He noted the throbbing in the back of his head but continued to flip through the pages until he would find the section. There it was, smack in the middle of the book, the large letters almost mocking him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>FRATERNIZATION IN THE WORKPLACE</p>
<p> </p>
<p>      He read through the few pages over and over, heart beating faster every time he had read the words. His pace had gotten slower and slower, there was a point where he could hear Aaron- No, Agent Hotchner reading the words to him. Reid was about to process the words for what was probably the hundredth time when he noticed small annotations made in similar handwriting. The writing of Jason Gideon, a person he couldn’t bear to think about. Still, he was curious about the origin of the need to annotate this section over any other.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>      “Actually, Garcia?” She hummed in response, silently curing Reid out for ‘messing up her mojo’. “Can you maybe, um” He started, fumbling on his words. “Can you see if anyone in the BAU had, you know,” he whispered, trying again. Garcia gave him an expecting look, urging him to continue. “Is there any record, private or not, of any member of the team, uh, you know. Sleeping with each other? Especially something with a supervisor and subordinate,” he mumbled the last part. Penelope had looked at him wide-eyed, it seemed to be such a mercurial thing to say coming from the doctor. She nodded furiously, opening her laptop, and getting to work. Reid noticed the age of the writing, and he spoke again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>     “Widen your search for anything that has happened in the past, I’m not sure, twenty years?” His gaze returned to the words, reading to himself intently.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>14a- Fraternization in the workplace is strictly prohibited. The Federal Bureau of Investigation encourages healthy relationships of respect between co-workers, but it is highly discouraged to engage in close relations (Emotionally compromised, leads to horrible interviewing and negotiations with unsubs.) </em>Gideon wrote.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>14c- Any sexual and romantic relationships between employees are prohibited by law. Anyone who violates the policy will lose privilege as well as their own job. (Clearance is gone with that, too. Unless you’re you, of course. And never, ever, have sex in your office- it’s embarrassing to watch.) </em>
</p>
<p>      Reid blushed furiously at this, thinking about Aarons dilated pupils staring into his own, hands folded into his, his weight on top of Spencer, quivering with every thrust. Reid shut the book abruptly, hoping the sound would possibly snap him out of his thoughts. Garcia spoke again, but he still failed to think about anything but Aaron Hotchner’s rapid heartbeat and the mewls and moans that he released when driving into the younger man. “It was just Rossi,” Garcia said with a smile. “He was sleeping with a girlfriend of his from the academy, Strauss sealed his files the day it was brought up.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>      “Spencer” Aaron repeated rigorously. “God, you’re pretty.” He became undone under the agent’s touch, shivering madly.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>      “Hotch” the boy praised in return, breathing manically. Reid took a mental note of the immense pleasure he felt, praying that there was a next life where they could do this over again, do it right.</em> “That would make sense,” Reid stifled a laugh. “Gideon mentioned something that sounded like it was clearly towards him in the margins of the book,” Garcia giggled in response, making some twisted joke about their supervisor and took the book from Spencer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>     The door swung open, making Spencer flinch a bit. He had eased once he recognized the facial features of Prentiss, peeking her head through the doorway. “We’re ready for the round table, let’s go.” She said, making her way up the hall to the conference room, the two following close behind. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. inferno</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>just a bit of a coda and behind the scenes for season 3 “damaged” . it’s my favorite episode tbh so i hope you like this ! please leave kudos and comment if you’ve enjoyed, it encourages me to write more &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It would be years until the next time rule 14 was broken again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hotch was the first in the office, seated across from section chief Erin Strauss. She had a calm look on her face, etching notes into paperwork beneath her. Spencer enters the office minutes later, looking as if he were an absolute wreck. Aaron’s head turns to the door, taking in the sight. From case to case, the supervisor had always been sure to maintain his professionalism with his former lover, if he could even call it that. Handshakes were always firm, curt, and the only type of intimacy they shared. During cases, the two of them would simply maintain relative conversation. There were rules- some official, written on paper. The others were the majority, unspoken, and with their lines of work, sometimes even fatal if violated. He stares at the boy for a bit too long this time, breaking another golden rule- not to profile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Reid nodded slightly at the other man, sitting himself down in the chair beside him. The two look to their supervisor, ready for assignments. “I have an inmate to be executed next week in Hartford, Connecticut. Since the two of you are some of our finest, I’ve made the decision to come to you both with the offer first. His name is Chester Hardwick, I’m sure that you’re familiar,” Hotchner nods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “He’s rumored to have killed at least 20 women in the Northeast, I’ve read his file.” Strauss shakes her head, then reaches down to the bottom of her desk, pulling out a series of folders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I’d like for you and Dr. Reid to meet with him in the morning. Anderson will update you with information regarding travel, here’s a collection of what we have on him. Dr. Reid,” She finishes, handing her subordinate the information sealed into brown folders. “You’re both free to go,” She says monotonously, returning to her work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Long night?” Hotch asks, closing the door behind them. Reid hums quietly in response, the two making their way across the floor to their own precinct of the BAU. Hotch sighs in defeat, choosing to let it go. They turn into the doorway, and Aaron almost chokes as their shoulders brush together, his heart tossing. It lasts for a moment and the two rush into the bullpen as they had been before. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Business</span>
  </em>
  <span> as usual. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     It’s four in the morning when Aaron leaves his empty house to head to the Quantico offices, throwing his go-bag onto the passenger seat of his car. He passes through a Starbucks drive-through to grab whatever was available, throwing the greasy container onto the seat next to him. Hotch walks into the main building and rides the elevator to the BAU, heading straight into the bullpen. Reid is already sitting in Aaron’s office, looking intently over Hardwick’s files which were sprawled out onto his couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The doctor looks up and meets Aaron’s gaze as he enters the room, smiling softly at the older man. He shifts in his seat when Hotch moves to the desk across from him, collecting his materials in silence. Spencer sighs, finally getting up from the comfortable seat and gathers his files. He doesn’t know why he says it or where it comes from, but the words emerge from deep inside of his body. “Tom broke up with me again,” Reid said sternly, causing Hotch to immediately turn around to stare at him. His eyes lock into his own with a rough zeal, and he doesn’t know what he feels as he returns the gaze, softly. “He’ll be back soon, I know that. You um, you asked me if I had a rough night yesterday. That’s my explanation,” Reid voiced, firm, still laced with confusion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Aaron blinks a few times and gains his footing, then nods, it’s more of a snap of his head, he thinks, then returns to collecting his files, his pace quicker now. Reid stuffs everything he has into his messenger bag, then follows his supervisor out the door and back into the bullpen. “I’m going to be driving, there’s a coffee for you and some breakfast in the break room if you’ll get it. It’s a long drive.” Aaron kept his professional voice on to the best of his ability, the office was starting to get busy and he felt himself about to lose his mind around Reid once again. It was clear the two were insanely vulnerable that day, delicate and about to break. The team was more than aware of how on/off Reid was with his boyfriend, but the young man insisted that it was what he wanted, he at least had someone to come home to most days. </span>
</p><p><em><span>    “I want you, Aaron.”</span></em> <em><span>Reid had said, voice perverted with greed. “I know I’m safe with you, I want you every day,” Hotch’s heart fluttered as he tightened his grip around Reid’s hollow frame. His heart was pounding out of his chest, smiling at him with a yearning gaze. Reid smiled back, kissing the man who held him tight in his arms. </span></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <span>    “I adore you, Spencer,” He looked down at him with a wild look, pinning him right to the floor. Reid quivered at the movement, panting at every kiss the man placed on his chest. “You want me, you can have me.” Reid twitched, kissing him messily. “I’m yours tonight.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     It was what Reid had wanted. Hotch reminded himself as Spencer walked into the elevator with him, their bodies planted at both ends of the container, keeping a safe, professional distance. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Professional. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The two made their way to the bureau garage where Hotch threw himself into one of the BAU Cadillacs, Reid following suit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The first half of the ride consisted of Aaron keeping quiet, hands rested securely on the wheel, and Reid skimming through paperwork and files, jotting down notes when he had a thought. The ambiance of the heater and the soft skimming of pages were the only sounds that surrounded the car. As soon as they exited Pennsylvania, Spencer turned his gaze to his boss, clearing his throat. “We need a strategy, Aaron,” Reid said, accidentally slipping out the man’s first name. It had been a while since the man had heard his name uttered from those lips, and it caused him to smile sadly. Hotch muttered something in agreement, his eyes zeroing in on the scenic road in front of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I think that we should just go with a simple offensive tactic, he has a personality similar to Kemper, and that was the main strategy used on him,” Hotch said stoically. Reid nodded, unnoticed, realizing that that would be all he’d get out of his supervisor until they reached the prison. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “It’s pretty out. I like it here,” Reid said sleepily, admiring the sights of Connecticut in the morning. It had been a while since he was in the area, being a former MIT student allowed him to frequent lectures at other universities like Harvard or Brown, Yale being his treat for himself on the weekend. Aaron remembers how fond he was of an Ancient Greek professor from the college, getting lost in memory. He looks back at the boy, the curve onto his lips meeting his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Yeah,” Hotch started, Reid finally meeting his gaze, eyes tired and warm. “It’s gorgeous here” The two share a euphoric gaze before both return their focus to the road. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The two enter the prison yard, ignoring the shouting of the inmates mocking their presence. Reid notices a small number of numbers coming from the guards and feels a wave of worry wash over him. He sighs, squeezing the worn leather of his messenger bag. They stride into the entrance of the penitentiary, removing the guns from their holsters. Reid notices two guns in the bin and stares at his boss, whose eyes were currently bouncing around the hall. He was debating on violating his protocol and bringing in the gun with them for safety, and for a moment Reid was relieved. Then he thought of a case from nearly twenty years ago where something similar happened, resulting in the inmate to subdue his interrogators and take them both down with two headshots. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hotch was shaken out of his thoughts as he felt a weight grappling onto his left shoulder. He stared at the large, skinny hand, feeling it slightly quiver through the layers of clothing. Aaron followed the limb up slowly, eyes finally meeting Spencer’s gaze. He was flushed and his lips were moving fast as his chest rose. His eyebrows were contorted inward and his eyes beating, the boy looked scared to death. The prison guard shot them both a look, squinting quizzically. Hotch let out a sigh in defeat, his arm reaching out to lean on the boy as he bent his knee, pulling the gun out of the holster. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The clanking of the weapon falling on top of the other two was nearly as loud as Spencer’s heartbeat at the time. He struggled to react calmly to the harsh look on the guard’s face, finally mouthing a ‘sorry’ on behalf of the other man. She averted her gaze to the contact that the two of them still shared, their arms lingering far from one another for longer than she deemed to be normal. He noticed instantly, snapping himself away and staring down at his shoes in subtle embarrassment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Another guard led the two of them to an office requested by the warden, and they were left alone once again. Reid noticed a desk similar to Garcia’s in Quantico, adorned with stupid trinkets. He carelessly drops himself right into the chair and starts to play with whatever he can find. “That was stupid, you know,” Reid blurted, earning a frustrated groan from Hotch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I don’t care, I didn’t have a good feeling, either. I know you, Spence.” Hotch said after a thick silence. Just then, his emergency cell started to ring. He cursed the thing, then picked up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I can take the lead if you’d like,” Reid said after a short back and forth between the two about JJ’s call. He decided not to bother since it’s so unlike Hotch to be open to anyone at all, instead just trying to help. The warden interrupted his one-sided bickering to the boy with a bright smile. Hotch was tired, drained by Hayley and her nonsense, which was exactly what it was. He can’t remember the last time that he was so furious, his gaze on the warden absolutely piercing as he praised Spencer. The older man thought Agent Hotchner to be curt, but he knew what he was doing and much more decorated and experienced than he. The man liked Dr. Reid more, liked how he would make the effort to engage. Agent Hotchner was likely to have a bad day, so he felt pity for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Chester Hardwick; to Spencer, at least, was one of the more large and intimidating killers that he had seen. He entered the room, instantly driving his face into a carnivorous smirk. The man's eyes were dark with pleasure as he heard the skinny boy whimper once the older man had agreed to free him of his shackles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “We’re just gonna talk, right, Chester?” the agent warned, and Hardwick meticulously nodded in response. He took piercing pleasure in watching the handsome boy’s heart pound out of his chest in fear, begging his coworker repeatedly with his glances for protection. He thinks about the carnage that he’d soon release on the boy, then methodically thinking about what he’d do to the man his senior once he took his last breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Hotch glanced warningly at Reid as the killer in the room with them requested the window to be open. His blood was boiling dangerously, and he was so far gone that he could care less as to what Reid was thinking or trying to insinuate. Spencer watched with utter dread as Hardwick slowly opened the window, reaching on his toes for the fresh air. Aaron was glaring at the man’s face as he was smiling, but the doctor was staring at the shiny object that had been revealed at Hardwick’s ankles. Reid inhaled sharply, heart thumping. He knew Aaron, he knew he’d try to knock the man to the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    He also knew Hardwick, he knew people </span>
  <em>
    <span>like </span>
  </em>
  <span>him. Aaron could only see red at the moment, that was clear. The menacing man would likely use that to his advantage, stab him repeatedly, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>get off</span>
  </em>
  <span> on it. Hardwick snapped his head back, chuckling maniacally. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aaron had <em>had</em> it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Hardwick watched as the older agent paced the room, fuming at every single answer to the questions asked by Spencer. The air in the room was heavy and Reid felt like he was going to choke. He fiddled with his fountain pen as Hotch pressed the man in the jumpsuit about the victims, why they were there. The young doctor felt that Aaron was going to explode at any second, and he thought absentmindedly about a strategy while he listened to Hardwick, watching his former lover as the inmate thanked them both. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Let’s pack it up,” Hotch said, glaring at the white-haired man.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Shouldn’t we at least-” Reid muttered, eyes pulsing. It was that moment where Hardwick figured it out. He saw the long-haired boy grip his pen as the older agent snapped at him, watched the other man beg, beg for the short-haired man to be rational. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He had a new plan, and it caused Hardwick to thrill. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     The air was too thick for Spencer to breathe as Hotchner tried to reach for assistance with the buzzer. The sound rang through twice before the arsonist spoke again. Reid’s blood turned cold at the realization that Hardwick had requested five in the afternoon for a reason. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He was right.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>     “It took me less than five to do this,” Hardwick beamed, noticing the smallest bit of concern that had finally reached the agent’s angry face. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>     “See, women are usually my favorite toys to play with,” Chester said, still clutching the photograph of his work. “But he’s just as pretty, isn’t he?” Hotch stood still, trying to remain unbothered by the murderous taunt. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>     “I want nothing more than to protect you as well, maybe that can be our bond.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> the soft words that came from Spencer years ago lingered in the back of his mind, and his gaze instantly turned barbarous, bloody almost towards the inmate in front of them. Spencer noticed the gaze nearly instantly and tried to use his brain once again. He backed himself into a corner slowly as the two exchanged words about security tones.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I won’t need a gun,” Hotch said, his voice colder than Spencer could ever register. His mind failed to help him, so he panicked and hid behind a column in the room, thinking that if anything, Spencer would try to lunge for the knife before it would pierce through Aaron’s skin. His stomach was on the floor at the thought, and his hands began to shake. Hardwick looked at him for a second, and the sight of terror in the boy’s eyes for the other man was enough to send him over the moon. The two of them returned their gaze to Aaron, one with unfathomable worry and the other with delight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Spencer inched closer to Hardwick, eyes subtly focusing in on the knife strapped to his socks. Hotch and Reid locked eyes instinctively, both on opposite sides of Hardwick in the room. Reid was ready to </span>
  <em>
    <span>die</span>
  </em>
  <span> just so Hotch would stand a chance, thinking about even trying to throw a chair at him and yell for the man he loved to run away. Then he thought about Jack Hotchner, even Hayley Hotchner. If his superior didn’t get away in time, knowing how stubborn he was- the man would be dead with Spencer. Hardwick would’ve won.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “You saved my life by coming here.” He smirked, starting to prowl towards Hotch. He felt a shock of pleasure course through him after hearing the soft gasp from across the room where the young boy watched as the man across from him removed his suit and tie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “At your core, you’re a coward.” Hotch spat, pointing. Reid was prepared to </span>
  <span>run as fast as he could to save him, knowing that it would be seconds until Hardwick swung. He quickly noticed that it would be too late by the time that he was at the man’s feet. Chester let out a groan of rage when Reid spoke up. He expected him to plead for the man’s life and froze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Chester, do you want to know why you killed those women?” Reid rushed, reaching his hand out instinctively. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>     “What?” The man was sincerely taken aback, his glare switching from one agent to another speedily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I can tell you why you killed them.” Reid finished. Hardwick watched as Reid stared at Hotch, eyes glassy and body shaking violently. Hardwick got closer to the other man, his gaze piercing with a look neither agent could possibly describe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Aaron watched Hardwick carefully as Spencer ranted to Hardwick about whatever he could about unsubs like him. He inched closer to the man in the jumpsuit, trying his hardest to stop him from lunging towards the boy if he ever thought to change his mind. Hotch calmed down once Spencer started to rant about neuroscience, explaining that he would kill his victims to be compliant in bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “I think you know deep down, it was you who really never had a chance,” Reid finished, noticing a deflation in the killer’s expression. He hoped and hoped that Chester could at least have a seat, that the two agents would be out of the woods. The door swung right open, the metallic sound deadening for Spencer. Hotch grabbed his things, striding right out of the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Is that true, I never had a chance?” Hardwick said, nearly defeated. Reid looked at him one last time, not giving a single shit about the files that littered the table- Garcia could print them out again if they’d really need it. He sprinted out of the room, jogging behind Aaron like a little puppy. He walked into the office, almost slamming the door in front of Spencer before he could slip in behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Aaron kicked the recycling bin in anger so hard that it flew across the room, and Spencer quivered at the palpitations of the noise. It landed with a thud, the hollow sound echoing strongly. He then proceeded to curse out nothing, in particular, lashing out his anger onto the plastic bin, kicking it repeatedly. Reid noticed a small mental parallel to the bin and himself during a hostage situation with a former military sniper turned LDSK in a hospital. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reid earned his gun that day, it was Aaron’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Hotch!” He screamed, lunging towards the man with both of his hands, squeezing him tightly from behind. He winced, expecting the other man to throw him to the floor and beat him as well, to scream at him and to shout harsh words, but it never came. He froze in the boy's arms after a few minutes of squirming out of his grasp, his body succumbing to the warmth. He turned around and looked down to see Spencer shutting his eyes tightly, his face contorted in pain and torment. Hotch immediately melted at the sight, and suddenly did something that Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, even simply </span>
  <em>
    <span>Aaron</span>
  </em>
  <span> would ever do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He broke down into sobs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Reid opened his eyes at the noise, his wails eerie in tone, his expression even harsher to look at. He fell to his knees, Spencer quickly dropping down as well, cupping his hand onto Aaron’s wet face. He watched the older man completely wilt away, repeating the words </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m so sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span> as if it were a prayer. His voice was broken, low, and muffled by cries, and it broke Spencer’s heart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “It’s ok, love, it’s ok. It’s going to be ok. We’re ok.” Reid said with fervor, tone soft and encouraging. He stared right back at Hotch with a soft gaze as he wiped away the tears with his thumb. They stay like this for a few minutes, Hotch on his knees in what looks to be the most uncomfortable way of sitting imaginable, and Spencer sitting with his legs crossed, tending to the older man, whispering soothing words of encouragement. He feels tears purge his own cheeks now, he bites his lip and laughs sadly. “Look what you did now, idiot. I’m crying, too.” Hotch laughs sadly in return, opening his eyes to look at the younger man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I love you, you fucking puffball.” Reid lunges towards Hotch at this, heart beating loudly as he rests his head into the crook of his neck, his arms wrapping around him with desperation. Hotch settles onto the floor properly, pushing Reid softly into his lap, wrapping his arms around his waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Just like a puzzle piece,” the young boy whispers, sound muffled by the skin on Hotch’s neck. The two stay sobbing into each other, heartbeats almost in sync. It had been more than two years since the two were vulnerable with each other like this, and Hotch wasn’t about to let him go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Just like a puzzle piece,” Hotch mutters back, kissing his forehead. The kiss lingers for a minute, warm and soft. Spencer feels his heart unfold and his brain shut off completely, and he goes into autopilot. Aaron lets out an illicit moan at the feeling of the first kiss that the boy places onto his neck, the two had been together enough times that night years ago for Reid to recognize his sensitive spots. Hotch’s sturdy hands skim down the arch of Spencer’s back, causing him to clumsily grind into him in return. The two pull away, and Spencer roughly grabs onto the collar of Aaron’s shirt, his grip desperate and strong. Aaron digs his nails right above Spencer’s hips at the action, finally connecting their lips together. The two kiss until they couldn’t anymore, sucking deeply, hands fumbling up and down the other’s body. Spencer’s muscles contract when Aaron starts to pound his hips up and down into Reid through his pants as he starts to grind messily back into him. Their lips connect again and it isn’t long until their stomachs coil and they both release with a gasp, pulling away slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     They stay in the embrace, and Spencer collapses into Aaron’s chest, his heart’s pulsing finally slowing down. Hotch clings onto him tightly, afraid to let him go. “I almost got us killed,” he said, voice cracking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “He had a knife at his ankles,” Reid mumbled, tracing the chiseling of his lover’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    “You saved me,” Hotch gasped, anger leaving his body, the emotion turned into guilt and admiration towards the man. “Thank you,” he said after a second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “ ‘M tired,” Reid muttered, and Hotch hummed in agreement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Me, too. I think we both need to go get some sleep,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The pair shot up and left the prison as quickly as they could, the car ride turning silent once again. Hotch finally had calmed himself down after an hour of driving, finally deciding to bring up Hayley and his divorce.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “What I want, I’m not going to get,” Hotch sighed, gripping the wheel tightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I know,” Spencer sighed, rule 14 mocking him in the back of his mind as he spoke. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer decided that he would call Tom that night, try to get him back. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What he wanted he wasn’t going to get, either.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>im gonna be doing more chapters than 8 bcs i had an idea but this was a long chapter since the other two were a bit short</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. aftermath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>light smut here but a few important plot points for the next few chapters</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>     Aaron held the door open for Spencer and watched him walk into the New Jersey Holiday Inn, trailing right behind. The foyer was a dull brown adorned with the green accents to correspond with the brand, the counter at the end of the entrance shining in the fluorescent light. They walk up to the woman in the counter, hair as dark as Aaron’s secured into a low bun, tapping away onto the system. Spencer fumbled around his messenger bag for his badge, pulling it out and flipping it open for the girl to see. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “FBI, we’d like a room for tonight if you have one,” He said. The woman nodded, looking into her system intently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “We are pretty booked tonight, the only rooms that are ready have one bed, will that be okay?” She asked. Spencer looked at Aaron expectantly, to which he was met with the cocking of his eyebrow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “That’s fine. We’ll take something nice if you have it.” He grumbled, voice a bit groggy. Spencer had taken a nap on the way there, the two of them then stopping for an espresso with their meal at a highway diner. The woman nodded, returning to her laptop, the clanking of the keyboard echoing throughout the large room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “Our executive suite is available for the night, it’s on the fourth floor, number R63. Enjoy your stay,” She said after a moment, handing Aaron the key card in exchange for Spencer’s credit card. They made their way up the elevator in silence, then walking down the hall and into the room. They both dropped their go-bags at the doorway, and Aaron mumbled something to the younger boy about taking a shower. Reid nodded, and once the door shut he had moved to the bed, inspecting the sheets for bugs or spots before roughing it up a bit so they could lie down later. He walked over to his bag, messing around with the contents until he found his sweatpants. The boy carefully unlaced his old Converse, neatly placing them next to Hotch’s oxfords.  He then threw off his cardigan and slacks, crisply folding them and putting them onto a lounge chair by the bed. He finally unbuttoned his shirt after removing his tie, adding them onto his pile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The sweatpants were incredibly hot on his legs, so he turned the thermostat down a few degrees in the corner of the room. Spencer hummed to himself quietly as the sound of the shower continued in the background, before finally deciding on going in himself to brush out his hair. He grabbed onto his comb and listened as the door creaked open, welcoming in the mugginess of the room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Reid?” Hotch said voice muffled over the warm water pouring onto his body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Yeah, Hotch. Just me,” He said as he wiped the steam off of the window, staring back at his reflection. Reid had washed his face and brushed his teeth and hair when the sound of the water stopped, handing Aaron a towel instinctively. “Better?” Reid asks, smiling as he watches the man pop out from behind the curtain, his toned body reddened from the heat. Hotch nodded, smiling. Reid waits as he watches the older man dry himself off and finish any business he had at the counter, following him out the door after a few minutes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The two were sat propped against the headboard now, lying in each other's arms, enjoying the company. Reid laughed at a joke that he attempted to crack, then looking up to him again. “Can I say something?” Spencer asked, tone a bit more serious than before. Hotch nodded, grip tightening onto his waist as he spoke. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “When Charles killed me, I was scared. I was terrified. I was terrified to be there and to lose my job and to lose my new family and to not have </span>
  <em>
    <span>lived my life</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Hotch’s gut twisted, his lips curling into a frown. “I was so happy with myself when I was right about the cemetery. I knew that you’d get it, sorry about calling you a narcissist, by the way,” he giggled at the fake-hurt look on the man’s face, smiling for a moment. “But I didn’t have anything to live for, you know? Then when, ah, we. When we slept together, and we got to talk that night, I had something to live for. I know that that sounds like a lot, but I mean it. You were something to live for, Aaron.” He studied Reid’s face at that moment, trying to remember the way Spencer does, to remember feeling, and expression, and everything else that goes into memory for him. “I started to go to that movie club after we spoke, too. I’m better and it’s because of you,” His voice was as soft as his gaze in Aaron’s eyes, heart fluttering rapidly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Essentially, the two of them were polar opposites. Their personalities were meant to clash, but they just </span>
  <em>
    <span>made sense</span>
  </em>
  <span> together. Aaron smiled at the thought. He saves lives every day, but he had virtually saved the life of the person who was most important to him, and nobody else had known. Aaron loved the feeling. And Aaron loved Spencer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I know you were mad today. I’d probably be even more upset if I had been you, and I’m sure that’s hard to believe.” Reid said, pushing Hotch’s arm playfully. “But it was stupid. You scared me. That’s the blunt way to say it, so let me just elaborate,” Hotch huffed in irritation softly, but Reid squeezed his hand and the feeling washed away instantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “You were going to keep your Glock with you, and for a minute I would’ve let you. I had a horrible feeling about security there. Then, I remembered that two CIA agents, years and years ago had pulled something similar in the Middle East, and both of them were dead in seconds, and he was still cuffed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “You put it away, thank God. I’m more than sure that he would’ve noticed in the end and you would’ve been shot and I couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>handle </span>
  </em>
  <span>even the thought of that, Aaron. I know I’m not Morgan, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> that I’m not a fighter, but I would’ve tried to protect you. I wanted to reach for his knife if he tried to swing at you, and if I died- you’d get to breathe another day. It wouldn’t have been on me if I had just stood there,” Reid said, and Hotch gives him this impassioned gaze, tainted with sadness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Spencer, I wouldn’t ever let that happen,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “We work in a world where it’s bound to happen. It does all the time, and you know that. I just don’t want to have to live without knowing you’ll be okay. That sounded intense, didn’t it? I bet it did, but you need to know,” He muttered, lip quivering slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “We might have a problem, then. You know that I feel the exact same,” Hotch leaned into Reid’s face, planting a chaste kiss onto his plump lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “We should flip a coin for it then,” Reid joked, and the other man gasped in a mocked shock. Aaron’s face ghosts with a smile, and the mattress makes a small sound while he moves on top of the boy, who was grinning. He looked down at Reid whose eyes filled with vicious desire, pupils dilating with want. He instantly spreads his knees open instinctively, and Aaron moans with delight and anticipation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Three hours later and Aaron was thrusting Spencer up the wall, his legs wrapped around him messily, his body unable to keep stable from the titillating situation. His pace picked up with violent fervor, and Reid started to sob at the speed, body shivering intensely. “Aaron!” his desperate whines consumed the room, listening attentively to his lover’s vulgar pants after every time he pounded into him. Reid’s hands roamed from the wall that he was clutching onto Aaron’s back, digging his nails in deeply. He growled at the contact, his mouth moving in to assault the boy’s chest salaciously. Reid screamed with rich arousal, moving his mouth to the heat of Aaron’s shoulder, placing damp bites on the skin with dangerous hunger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Pound me into the mattress again, it was hot,” Reid says suddenly, and Hotch is taken aback for a moment by his bluntness. “Please,” He said quickly, and Hotch laughed for a moment at the boy's cuteness before throwing him down onto the plush bed. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>second update for today , im gonna be using a bit of cannon divergence for the next few chapters that'll take place during the 5th season. comment and leave kudos for more !</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. divine comedy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>spoilers for the szn 5 premiere, again some cannon divergence but it isn't anything extremely plot altering</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sex had become a much more frequent activity for the two of them after the papers were signed, meetings usually happening at the Omni every week. It was a habit. Every Saturday, Spencer would meet Aaron in the pristine room, and the two would share the illicit secret. He liked it the best this way, sex was one of the most popular forms of intimacy, and they would say it was just sex. They didn’t want it to be real, especially Spencer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If it was real, he would lose him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Some days, however, Reid would meet with Aaron in his apartment, the two would have dinner together, Jack sometimes joining them. They’d work some files and Hotch would take him to his room once the boy was asleep or Hayley would pick him up. Reid would like to believe that Hayley didn’t know, but how could she be so oblivious to the fact that he was there </span>
  <em>
    <span>all the time</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Most days he wouldn’t even bother the love bites that Aaron left on his neck and jaw, subtly boasting them and hoping she’d notice. But it wasn’t anything real. It was just sex.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sex wasn’t something to boast about, </span>
  <em>
    <span>especially</span>
  </em>
  <span> not to your lover’s ex-wife. Sometimes Jack would ask something in his broken toddler English if Spencer had a boo-boo, and Aaron would laugh as he watched Reid turn red, stumbling insistently that he was preparing for Halloween to the young boy. Aaron loved how much Jack seemed to love Spencer’s company, watching the two of them work on a puzzle with endearment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon Hotch’s apartment was adorned with Spencer’s favorite books, his clothes, and a collection of small polaroids and notes of the small group tucked under the bed in a box. Reid’s apartment shared a similar dynamic, turning into something that he was accustomed to. Spencer had become less shy since the two had met, emerging out of his shell slowly. He became more understanding, more open, more sarcastic, angrier, more passionate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aaron was falling even more in love with him if it could be possible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two were socially isolated from everyone else, confiding in only each other. It had been a step up from bottling up feelings and destroying themselves inside. It was a particularly difficult case that night, and Reid had dropped Aaron off immediately in his car, placing a kiss onto his lips softly before unlocking the door. Hotch walked inside, pouring himself a small drink of bourbon that lay on his table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sensed a person in the room as he lowered the glass, his muscles tensing. The hair behind his neck stood up high, then he heard the petrifying sound of a gun cocking from behind him. He turned the fear off in his mind, turning around to meet the eyes of George Foyet, then, the barrel of the loaded gun. The gunshot had resonated in Aaron’s ears, and he was soon pinned to the floor, a sharp knife slicing into his abdomen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched as Foyet boasted the scars that he had carved into himself, shuddering at the point that he made. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m going to have the same scars</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his thoughts were clouded from the blood that pooled from the gashes that Foyet made, and he could feel the bile rising into his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My team,” Aaron tried through an agonizing groan. He noticed the man grin wickedly at this, almost laughing. He was ready to succumb to darkness then and there, to beg his body to shut down and for his blood to leave his wounds faster, but the man straddling him didn’t allow it, slicing the knife into his body once again. He breathed heavier now once the man demanded he saves his oxygen, ready to give up. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You were something to live for, Aaron.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> His lover’s voice echoed in the very back of his mind, and his breaths instantly turned shallow. He silently prayed to whatever deity he could that he’d stay awake, that Reid would be in his arms soon enough, safe. Spencer needed to be safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Foyet was maniacally questioning Aaron about his impotence, and Aaron clenched his teeth, just waiting for the pain to end. He remembered from the file that there were nine stabs made, and this had been the eighth. The final blow was delayed, the older man was too busy enjoying the labored breaths that came from the agent beneath him. His sternum was carefully pierced into, causing Aaron to scream louder than he had before, earning a hollow laugh from the killer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How about you and me take a ride in a few minutes, Agent Morgan?” Foyet asks, shoving his agent’s stolen credentials in his face mockingly. Hotch let out one last groan of anguish before his eyes closed. The man began to traipse around the apartment, humming a peppy tune of amusement. He swung open the door to the bedroom, giggling like a child in a candy store. He had about an hour before the idiot would bleed to death in the other room, so he searched in places he’d think would be a hiding space for Aaron. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He found the address book he was searching for in the sock drawer, ripping out the page with the name </span>
  <em>
    <span>Brooks.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He made sure to return every particle in the drawer back into the place he saw it, then closing the drawer with a loud thud. He paced the room, thinking about what he could possibly leave for Aaron as a present. His gaze lands on an old novel, something that looked to be out of the 17th century. He picked it up, studying it carefully. It was a copy of </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Divine Comedy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, in Latin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aaron Hotchner didn’t know Latin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But George Foyet had a theory as to who did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He quickly starts to turn the room upside-down, searching for any other sign of the resident doctor of the team in the bedroom. He stopped for a moment and slapped himself mentally. He thought about the one place where every child hides their secrets growing up, laughing as he finds a shoebox from under the bed, slipping it out and throwing it onto the mattress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked at the collection of photographs in the box, trying to find the best one. There was one of Dr. Reid, Aaron, and his son together, the three of them all holding up something related to a dinosaur, Jack’s favorite. He shook his head absentmindedly, he would already be using a photo of Hayley and Jack with Morgan’s badge, so that he couldn't do. He then noticed one in particular of Hotch smiling wide to the camera, drink in hand, while the other boy shyly had his head into the man's neck, arms tight around his waist. The two of them seemed sickening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The photo was transferred into his left hand for safe-keeping, searching for a photo that would be more damaging. He finally found one that even made Foyet feel, picking it up gingerly. He smirked at the photo, then he snatched up the book and returned the box to its initial place. Before he left he tucked the image into the second section of the novel, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Purgatory.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He shut the door behind him, then picked up Aarons finger, doused with blood, planting it onto the two images meticulously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was going to destroy him like this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He won.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go for a ride,” Foyet said, shaking the man awake. He sighed in response, it sounded weak, it didn’t sound like Aaron. He groaned and picked the man up once his mask was secured onto his face again. The two cruised to the Georgetown ER, and Foyet took his mask off and placed a lighter hoodie on. He slung Aaron’s arm around his shoulders dragging him through the doors. “Help! Somebody, please!” Foyet screamed in desperation, intending on causing a scene for the nurses. A group of respondents crowded around him, causing a commotion. He rolled his eyes mentally while he was bombarded with questions. “My name is SSA Derek Morgan, I’m with the FBI. This is my friend, he’s a John Doe to you. Someone stabbed him while we were out, and I don’t want anyone finding him. Please, you gotta help him!” Foyet said, and as soon as he had dropped off Aaron’s things, he was gone. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hope you guys liked, i'll update by the end of the month i hope. im supposed to be super busy for the week. comment and leave kudos , maybe ill update sooner ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. promises</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hope you guys like this, it was fun to watch the szn 5 premiere again, the writing was immaculate in that episode.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>     Spencer sighed, rolling over to turn off the call notification. It was early in the morning, too early for work. His eyes retracted at the sudden light emitting from the screen, squinting to avoid overstimulation. There was a case in the area, call time in a few hours. Reid decided to get there a bit earlier, finally rolling off the mattress, planting his feet onto the floor after a moment. He moved swiftly through his apartment, striding into the kitchen. He sliced up bread he prepared from the pantry, putting two pieces into the toaster. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Reid grabbed one of his books from the shelf, skimming through it as the kettle ran for his tea. Once he had finished eating, he turned his phone on once again and dialed Aaron. He was cleaning off the counter when it went to voicemail.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You've reached Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, please leave your name and a detailed message. Thank you,” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Reid huffed at the dial tone, sipping his tea swiftly. “Aaron, it’s me. We have a case, you probably know that. I just wanted to call to see if you wanted a ride to Quantico or if I could go with you. If not, I can just meet you there or something, it’s fine. Text me if you want something from Batched, I’m on my way there soon for a coffee and breakfast. Love you,” He finished, pressing the red button on the screen to end the call. He finished his drink and walked over to his closet, picking out his outfit carefully. His phone buzzed on the other side of the room, and he rushed over to the device, thinking it was Aaron, who usually always picked up the phone for him. He noticed that it was an unknown number, hesitating to press the answer button for a moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “This is Dr. Spencer Reid, how can I help you?” He asked, walking over to grab his satchel. He listened to a man from the D.C police, explaining his request for the BAU unit to come right to the crime scene as soon as they could. Before he strode out the door, Spencer took a post-it from the counter and jotted down the address, thanking the officer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He was the first onto the scene, JJ had called the others soon after her own call. Spencer and Prentiss exchanged a glance at the apartment after JJ and Rossi tried to get a hold of Aaron and failed. The two of them stayed behind with the surgeon to try to find an unsub with the motive to kill, the man in front of them panicked. Someone was out there killing other people before they got to his son, who had just disappeared to go to school for the day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Spencer eventually dialed Penelope, quietly asking her for patient files while Emily and the doctor were in the office next door looking at letters. He barely breathed, his mind was on Aaron. He loved his work, it was who he was. Spencer knew that he wouldn’t miss a day without saying anything to anyone, especially him. “Has Hotch checked in with you?” he asked, voice breaking a bit. Garcia paused, inhaling sharply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not with you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Spencer’s heart sank into the ground. His brain shut down and he didn’t know what to do. He paused for a moment, staring right into the stained glass window facing him. “He’s probably on his way,” he said, mentally hoping that he was somehow right. Reid was about to ask her to run a trap and trace on the man’s phone when he heard footsteps nearing into the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Thanks for everything, uh, bye.” He rushed, shutting his phone off and looking at Emily, whose face quickly plagued with worry for him. Before she was a profiler, she was his friend. She knew how much the young boy cared about Aaron, she did, too, even if it wasn’t in the same way. The three of them started to look into the files laid out on the table, profiling to the best of their ability. The man was pressing them both about their theories, his expression blank. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Mr. Barton asked the agents about how cases of that nature would typically end, snapping when he didn’t like the answer. “You operate and you move on,” He finished, his tone laced with irritation. Emily put a hand to her head, looking back at Spencer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I can get to Hotch’s and get back here in half an hour,” Prentiss said, looking right at her friend. Spencer leaned back, his expression washing over into subtle relief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “We’re having trouble getting ahold of him,” Reid finished, quickly briefing the surgeon of the team’s situation. The doctor snapped at Spencer, he was understandably worried about his son, he was all the man had. He froze at the surgeon’s remark, having to hold back tears. “Let’s just get through today,” He said, voice small. Spencer cleared his throat and returned to his work, reading through the files as fast as he possibly could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Hey,” Reid started, voice lower than a whisper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I think someone took Hotch,” She sighed. Reid gripped his free hand tightly onto his knee, throat drying up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “What?” Spencer choked</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “It’s bad,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “What- what are you talking about?” He stumbled. The man in front of him prodded him, his tone irritated. Spencer lifted a hand up weakly in response, he just didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>care.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     “The door was unlocked when I got there, I don’t know what to do. His phone was under the table and his guns were on the desk, it’s bad, it’s really bad,” Emily said, panicked. “There’s blood on the carpet, it’s a pool of it. I don’t know whose it is. There's, um, broken glass by a table with a drink, and everything in its place.” Her voice was faster than he’d ever heard it before, and Spencer could feel the bile rise in his stomach because of it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “We only have a few hours left here,” The man said, frustrated. Reid was just about to knock his teeth out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “I’m really sorry, I just </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to take this phone call, okay?” He said, eyes lining with tears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “What could be more important than my son right now?” He screamed, leaning close. Reid wanted to scream, wanted to tell him just to shut him up. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Someone took Aaron, nobody took your son, did they? There are people there protecting him now, he’ll be fine. Hotch- Hotch isn’t fine, I should’ve gone inside with him. It’s my fault,” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>    “I assure you, this will take one second. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I promise,” Spencer begged, the man then slamming the file onto the table. “Tell me what you see,” he whispered, wiping the stray tear from his eye. She described the wall in front of her, non-verbally theorizing that the bullet through the wall wasn’t meant for his head. “Any idea how he got out?” Spencer asked hopefully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “If he was shot, there are no drag marks, but a body could’ve been wrapped in something.” Her voice was calmer now but still laced with fear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “And bureau techs are on the way?” He hoped, sensing the surgeon pacing behind him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Any second,” the tone was reassuring, almost making Reid feel better. Almost.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “All right, um, write down everything you see and we’ll profile from your notes when you get back,” He bit the inside of his mouth, holding back a sob. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Don’t worry about here, I’ve got this. Just stay focused,” She finished, and the flood of worry in his system palpitated rapidly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>     “All right, you, too,” He sighed once he hung up the phone, trying his best to be professional and stoic. The two of them finally came up with a list of possible victims, and after a call with Garcia, he had the unsub. Reid’s phone chirped, and he let out an alleviated cry. She had told him that he was transferred to St. Sebastian from Georgetown and that he was alive. A few minutes later he noticed the surgeon getting his things, announcing that he was returning to work. Before Reid could say anything, Spencer’s phone started to ring again, answering it quickly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “What if the unsub was trying to tell Barton that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> is actually the target and that he’s gonna leave his son without a father?” Reid theorized, his voice slow. He heard the door open and close and immediately rushed over, calling out for the man. Reid sprinted through the foyer, leaping up from behind him. He tried to tackle the man to the ground, and a gunshot rang out. He cried out in pain, his phone moving across the lawn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Prentiss put the boy on hold, calling out for an ambulance and backup on the scene. She looked back at Hotch, panicked now. Remembering what she told Garcia about Foyet, she started to manically pray that it wasn’t him who had just fired the shot, that there was some way that he’d be okay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Whatever you do, stay down,” Reid shuddered through labored breaths, training the gun sloppily to the old man who had shot him. He begged the man to drop the gun, that it was over. As soon as the sirens inched closer, the man aimed his gun again, it was too close to Reid to be comfortable with. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Front sight, trigger, press, follow through</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Reid thought, shutting his eyes as soon as the shot rang out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Kick his gun away, make sure his gun’s not near him.” He rushed, staring down at his leg. Spencer watched as the paramedics tended to the man, then kept his eyes on the doctor who inspected the wound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “It looks like it went clean through,” He said, and Spencer sighed through his teeth. JJ and Morgan pulled up, running over to him quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “You need to find Emily, call Emily,” He begged, his tone demanding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Well, where is she?” Rossi said, voice soft and confused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Something’s happened to Hotch,” He says finally, trying to keep what little pressure he could on his leg. </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Aaron almost sighed with relief when he had seen that the items that Foyet took and left didn’t involve Spencer. He had been snooping around his home, a place where Aaron wasn’t exactly secretive. Rossi had come to visit him late at night after Hayley and Jack left, smiling sympathetically to him. “We’ll get Foyet,” He said, his voice firm and reassuring, something that the younger man couldn’t be at the time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Reid,” Hotch started, voice lower than a whisper. Rossi looked down at his shoes for a second, sighing. “Where is he, I haven’t seen him today.” The older man walked closer over to the bed, smiling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “He was with Barton when he figured it out, the unsub was going to kill him so he,” Hotch froze, fearing the worst. “It’s fine, Aaron. He saved the arrogant little fuck, but he got shot in the leg while doing it, he’s in surgery at Virginia State now,” Rossi said, smiling once he saw the man’s face relax again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “He’s a fool, you know,” Hotch laughed, relaxing when Dave put a hand to his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I think Emily might stay with him until he wakes up from the anesthesia. She said she’d drive over when she gets the okay. He’s a strong kid, Aaron. He’ll be okay.” He knew that, and he was glad that he’d have company, but something didn’t sit right with him being alone. Aaron might’ve thought the past 24 hours to be the lousiest day in the universe, and he wouldn’t be wrong. He felt pathetic. He wasn’t in any shape to protect Hayley, his best friend, and their son. He wasn’t in shape to protect Spencer now, and it hurt. It hurt him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Spencer woke up to a bright light whiter than linen, his facial muscles instantly contracting at the feeling. The first thing he felt was the pulsing of his hands, then his heartbeat. The sound of monitors surrounding him was comforting for a second, then the cold of the IV fluid and the hospital bed had hit him. He closed his eyes, abdomen twitching for a moment. He heard a voice, then several. Finally, a gentle hand on top of his, the smell of a familiar oriental perfume flooding the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     When his eyes opened, Emily was staring right back at him. She smiled gently, Reid returning it to the best of his ability. “Thank you,” He whispered, his voice small from waking up after surgery.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “Reid,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Prentiss,” He mocked, smiling weakly. She rolled her eyes, letting go of her grip on his hand for a moment so the nurses could work for him properly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>     “You know why you’re here?” he nods gently, aware of the ventilator hanging by his nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I don’t need this, do I?” He asked, averting his gaze from his friend to the resident in the corner. They started to remove what they were allowed from him, moving him into recovery once their work was done. “I’m hungry,” Spencer whined to the raven-haired woman sitting beside him. They were watching a crappy reality television program while the medicine wore off. Emily tried to laugh at it, but something was bugging her. Reid sighed, feeling a wave of pain rush through him as he tried to move himself over to meet her eyes. She shifted instead, saving him energy. “Tell me,” he begged. They didn’t speak much until this moment, he was nearly out of it for the two hours of consciousness that he’s been on since the surgery. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “You know that you can trust me with whatever, right?” She asked, face soft and unreadable. Spencer cocked an eyebrow, and laughed; he wasn’t sure why. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Of course, I trust you with my life, I have already.” He watched as she looked away to the hallway, face fixated on the passersby. “What?” his voice was softer now, his brain registering that it would be something serious. “Emily, tell me. Please,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She looked over to him after a long, deafening silence, sighing before she began. She shifted in her seat to a more open position, still tense. “Much earlier, I was at St. Sebastian with Aaron. You remember that he was in the hospital, don’t you?” Spencer nodded slowly, unsure of what was to come. “The L.C., it was on Aaron’s chart. Foyet stabbed him 9 times and dropped him off,” She whispered, feeling as if there was a ton of bricks pressing into her chest, debating on the best way to tell him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “He snooped around his apartment, and I saw that there was an address book on the dining room table. He ripped out the B page, he knows where Hayley and Jack live,” Spencer sighed at this, he felt horrible at the thought. “We put them into WPS, though, so it’ll be okay. Hayley didn’t love the thought of that at all, though.” he knew he wouldn’t be, either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Foyet also dropped off Morgan’s credentials with Aaron, with a picture of Hayley and Jack, then Hotch said something, this is important, Reid,” He nodded, blood boiling. Spencer was weak now, but that certainly didn’t mean that he wouldn’t try to beat the snot out of Foyet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    “He takes something from his victims, then he leaves something with them, Hotch said,” She made sure to articulate every word, hoping that Reid would understand because she really didn’t want to have to ask. “What I’m trying to say is, um, someone left this for you while you were in surgery,” She carefully took out an old novel from her purse, placing it on Spencer’s lap. Reid looked down in disbelief, it was a special copy of </span>
  <em>
    <span>the divine comedy</span>
  </em>
  <span> that Hotch had got for him. Reid had left it on the bedside table last week. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Foyet knew.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Reid opened the book, carefully searching for a line that he could’ve circled or a page he could’ve taken out. Emily watched him cautiously, eyes wide. Foyet wanted to kill him, too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wanted to because it could destroy Aaron. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wanted to because <em>Aaron loved Spencer.</em></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     She saw Reid stop at a page about a third way into the book, staring at it blankly. Reid blinked, then let out a pained cry. Emily rushed over to him, his hand covering his mouth, choking back sobs. She placed a hand on the upper part of his back, carefully rubbing circles into the skin in hopes to calm him. “What is it?” She whispered, tying Spencer’s hair back with the tie on her wrist. He raised a small photo from behind him, his hand shaking violently. Emily picked it up with her left hand, analyzing it with a soft focus. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     It was clearly taken by accident, but the moment seemed intimate and beautiful, something that she knew she shouldn’t be seeing. The two were in Spencer’s apartment, the detail made apparent by the green background, a shelf adorned with books in the corner. Emily saw what looked like part of a phonograph in the corner, explaining the position the two were in. Reid’s head was tilted closer to the camera, his head rested deeply into Aaron’s shoulder. Aaron’s hands were in the process of drawing Reid closer in, delicate and fragile. The boy with honeyed hair was smiling brightly, his mouth open and eyes drawn into laughter. A blush adorned his face, and he looked mesmerizing. Her boss looked almost shy, his face tucked into a tight smile, face redder than that of his dance partner. Part of his face was covered by Spencer’s curls, but he was captured right after he kissed the boy’s forehead, it seems. His face was nuzzled on top of his, and Emily felt warm looking at it. Their fingers were intertwined carefully, their clothes slightly disheveled, stances relaxed. Both of their necks had small marks, which in any other situation she would’ve made a teasing remark about. The border of the photo in the corner was stained with blood, turning the edges from white to red. Spencer moved his head back, looking up at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Please don’t tell anyone,” he begged, his body deflating to become smaller than his own voice. “I love him, Emily. I just want him to be safe,” the words pierced through her gut, and she felt just as wounded for him. She squatted down to meet Spencer at eye level, sighing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Hey, ‘cmere.” Reid accepted the invitation to her arms, and she could only listen to his sobs as he unfolded. Her grip strengthened as she felt him withering into her, quivering with every cry. Prentiss tries to soothe him in whatever way she can think of, which only causes him to cry more and clench tighter onto her blazer. She rides it out, staying with him and holding onto him tightly, deciding that he just needs a shoulder to cry on. It takes nearly an hour for the boy to slow down, his tears decreasing in pace, hiccuping every now and then. “How long?” Prentiss finally says, trying to make conversation with him, to make him a bit happier. Reid looks up at her, teeth chattering, eyes glassy. He makes a small noise that comes from the very depths of his stomach, it sounds like a question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “How long have you two been together, you look happy,” she coos, causing Spencer to break down into sobs again. “Hey, hey. I’m so sorry that I asked. Can you just slow down the tears if you can for me? Otherwise, I’ll have them stick the IV needle back in your arm,” She said half-jokingly. Spencer takes her hand roughly, calming down again. “I think that you were having a panic attack, but I’m here, I have you, Spence,” Her voice was maternal, caring. Reid felt safe again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I think it was two months after you joined, we, uh, we slept together,” Reid whispered after a small silence. “Please don’t tell Hotch about the book, he needs to focus on his family. Jack deserves to grow up with his mom and dad around,” He begged, voice breaking. Prentiss cursed at him mentally, breathing out heavily. “I’m not going to speak to him anymore, if I do, he’ll kill us both. That just might stop it, please. I just want to be alone and I want him safe.” She looked away for a moment, thinking about what to say.“Emily, please. Promise me,” his eyes were still glassy, his lips curled into a frown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I’ll promise you, but you have to promise me something, too, hmm?” She asks, and Spencer nods slightly. “Stay with me until we put Foyet away, you won’t be safe until he’s gone. Hotch won’t be either. And you know him, if you’re gone, I’m not sure if he could ever forgive himself. If he’s gone, that would destroy you. Please,” he looked away, turning down to play around with his nails, thinking about the offer. His gaze shifted to the picture on his legs, studying it for a while. She clears her throat to get his attention once more, and he looks up, smiling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I promise, Emily. Do you?” He nudged. Emily exhaled, relief washing over her mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Promise.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>comment and leave kudos for more!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. monitor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>this one is hella long and i didn't even realise it but spoilers for season 2 revelations and a lot of the quotes are copied right from the cc. enjoy</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>the itallics are for dream sequences ive used them in previous chapters and ill use them again</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He wanted to tell Emily about the nightmares, and he should have- he knows that he should’ve. But Spencer didn’t even think of them as nightmares, they were vivid memories that would visit him once his eyes closed. Now, they haunted him. </p><p>This was <em> his </em> nightmare.</p><p>Some days he’d remember through Hotch’s side of the story, small comments that the two would bring up in conversation. Others he’d wake up in a cold sweat, tears wetting his face for precision; crying out for Emily. Reid wanted to just let himself lose his mind, but he loved his job too much to admit defeat in such a way. So during his medical leave, he allowed himself to unravel- even if it was only for a short while. </p><p>
  <em> “This will be over soon if you just confess your sins,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’m not a sinner,” Spencer pleaded, lying through his teeth. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “We’re all sinners,” Charles spat, a look in his eyes that sent the heart of the boy strapped to the chair pounding out of his chest. He tried to think as fast as he could considering the circumstances. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “The Lord spake unto Moses saying, ‘speak unto all the congregation of the children of the lord ‘ and say unto them, ‘ye shall be holy, for I, the Lord- your God, am holy’.” There was a pause as the man in the coat sat down, quivering eyes following his movement.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You know Leviticus,” it was a comment, but he registered it as a question. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I know every word of the bible, I can recite it for you,” Anything to get out. He’d do anything. He was supposed to be the genius, he needed to outwit Hankel and finish him off, then someone would have to find him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “The devil knows how to read, too.” His heart sank at the comment, blood pounding in his ears.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’m not a devil! I’m not a devil, I’m a man. My name is Spencer Reid, and I have a mother, and I have a father- just like you! And, they taught me the bible. Let me just recite the bible, please,” He explained, trying to somehow ease the man’s anger and impending pain to be inflicted onto him. Hankel didn’t respond, instead of reaching for his foot, removing the worn patent leather shoe.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Time to confess, Spencer Reid,” His head started to pound, and he had a horrible feeling overcome him, he felt an odd sensation in limbs and the world started to shake around him. It was utter panic. “Confess!” He shouted, sending a shock through his body. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I- I  don’t have anything to confess,” Reid whimpered, hoping that JJ was okay and she and the team would catch on about his disappearance. He hoped he was somewhere in Tobias’ house, they’d find him. He shouted in pain when Charles started to whip his leg, silently begging for him to stop.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He met with Tobias Hankel again, and Reid almost felt bad for him. Almost. He theorized that Charles treated him in a way much worse than he just had with Reid, which made him shiver. The empathy washed away immediately when he saw a needle and bottle appear from Hankel’s left hand. If he didn’t tell Charles about any other ‘sin’ he could’ve committed, he’d surely be pinned for this one. He begged the man that he didn’t want the medication, that he’d be fine, but Tobias insisted, throwing Spencer into a fuzzy mental state. His father was yelling at him and his mother, calling him weak, leaving them both. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’m not weak, I’m not weak!” Spencer cried, tears now hot down his face. He thrashed around the chair for a couple of moments, coming down a bit from his high. Reid registered a person whose expression matched Charles scowling back at him.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I don’t give a damn whether you’re weak or strong,” He spat, head lowering down to his. He wouldn’t meet his captor's gaze, eyes drooped down lazily. “Yell all you want, boy. Ain’t no one gonna hear you where you are,” He whispered softly, only to draw back and scream. He flinched, muscles contracting until his body quickly returning to a relaxed state. Later in what Spencer hoped was the morning, he felt his hair being nearly pulled out of his scalp, groaning in pain when he met Charles’ eyes.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Are you ready, boy?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Ready for what?” He choked, tensing when the grip on his hair became stronger, practically lifting him up by the strands.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “My weakling son thinks God gave you to him for a reason,” Spencer hoped somewhere in his mind, as sick as it sounded, that Tobias was in love with him. He could use that as a means of escape. “Let’s see if we’re both right,” The chair turned to face several monitors and a camera, and he finally thought of a plan. He deduced that there was a likely chance that the only people Charles would be broadcasting to were his team or a form of law enforcement, which in that case his team would find quickly. He felt small in the large room while he was being recorded, staring at the man across the room in fear.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Can you really see inside men’s minds?” Reid opened his mouth in hopes that something would come out, but the voice spoke again. “See these vermin? Choose one to die. I’ll let you choose one to live,” He was surprised at how stoic the voice was, considering how impossible it was to ask something of that degree to him. The sound around him was fuzzy and he tightened the grip that he kept between his hands.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No,” He whispered, knowing that everyone was watching. Morgan was watching. Gideon was watching. Poor Garcia was watching. JJ was watching. Emily, even if he didn’t know her well, was watching. Aaron was watching. Aaron was watching. He knew what to do. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>  “I thought you wanted to be some kind of savior,” Charles spat, and he had to hold back a scoff as his response. The man strutted closer to him, jaw clenched in anger. He planned his responses to him carefully, now, like he was walking on eggshells. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You’re a sadist in a psychotic break. You won't stop killing. Your word’s not true,” He averted his eyes for a moment to the floor, soon returning the soft gaze to Hankel.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “The other heathens are watching. Choose a sinner to die, and I’ll say the name and address of the person to be saved,” Reid looked into the lens sympathetically, face locked into a frown.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I won’t choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like a poacher,” He said, eyes fluttering to the camera. They needed to understand, they had to. They were smart, they knew Spencer, it’d be okay. Charles picked him up by the shoulders, his nails digging deep into his skin. His face froze in fear, holding back tears.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Can you really see into my mind, boy? Can you see I’m not a liar?” He shouted, causing him to shut his eyes, ready for a beating.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Choose one to die, and save a life. Otherwise, they’re all dead.” He threw him back into the chair, sending a wave of relief through his body, sighing audibly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “All right, I’ll choose who lives,” He felt guilty, he shouldn’t be here. This shouldn’t be happening.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “They’re all the same,” Charles spat, the look in his eyes causing Reid to shiver.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Far-right screen,” He choked. Maybe he was weak in the end. If he weren’t someone wouldn’t have to die and nobody would be in this mess in the first place.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Marilyn David, 4913 Walnut Creek Road,” Reid shuttered, this was an actual person. She had a name, she had a home, she had a life. He watched her pick up the phone, his eyes darting to the camera once again. She blocked the monitor with her hand after a moment, shutting her laptop. His throat dried sickly when he met the eyes of the iniquitous man before him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Rafael,” He deduced, staring at the camera once more with an apologetic gaze, knowing that he’d shut it off. All Spencer could do was wait, pray that they would be able to get to the victim in time, whoever it would be. He was glad for a moment that Marilyn would live to see another day, but there was the immoral fear in the back of his mind that someone wouldn’t if his team couldn’t find them soon, and that it would all be because he was just a dumb toy.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Soon enough, he heard the voice of the archangel coming from the second screen, sending a chill straight up his back. “3514 Leavenworth. Raphael has killed them before their lies can free more sinners.” He watched in utter shock as he slashed the woman’s throat in front of her lover, starting to sob.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Two minutes later, he heard sirens flood the area the laptop had been in, police officers arriving first, CSI minutes later. He didn’t know how long it would be until Hankel returned, or how long it would take for anyone from the team to get there. But, soon enough a calm, warm, low voice came from the computer. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’m Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner with the BAU, this is SSA Jason Gideon, we’re here to comb the scene,” Two were in the line of view quickly, speaking to a detective. “I don’t know how much longer Reid can hold out,” he whispered vulnerably, looking over to Gideon.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Who were the victims?” he asks, and after a moment Aaron was reading out a bible verse. He sees him sit down at the chair, watching with an empty feeling. “Reid, if you're watching, you're not responsible for this.you understand me? He's perverting god to justify murder. You are stronger than him. He cannot break you.” He gets up, sighing. A minute later, Hotch returns into his line of sight, pacing the living room. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “He’s just a kid, you know that. You sent him in there with JJ and you knew, you knew something could happen. An isolated cabin in the woods? God, Aaron. A witness connected to two crimes related to the killings and you didn’t even bother to call? Idiot. He has to make it out alive, he just has to. Christ. You promised yourself you’d keep the kid out of harm's way. You didn’t get to him in time, he could be dead! He could be gone,” His voice was lower than a whisper, and a feeling quickly returned to his toes. Gideon called him, and he froze for a moment before leaving, removing the head that he buried in his hands. He heard his boss loud and clear- he had to make it out alive. Reid shut his eyes, trying to regain a possible ounce of strength he had left.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He woke up to the sensation of the belt-tightening around his arm once again, looking up to meet the man’s gaze. “Tobias,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Sorry, I had to leave for a while,” Reid thought for a second, finally entertaining the possibility of Hankel somehow having feelings towards him.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You can leave again, and you can take me with you,” He pleaded, looking into his eyes warmly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “My father would be angry,” He whispered, and he finally understood. Charles not only punished him for his addiction, his cowardice but for his heart, too.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Not if he can’t find us,”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “He always finds me,” He retorted, the amount of liquid growing in the needle he held rapidly.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “If you tell me where we are, my friends will come, and they’ll save us,” He said, begging that he was right. He never averted his gaze from the needle, prepping it gently. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “We can’t be saved,”  </em>
</p><p><em>And for the first time, Reid knew where an unsub was coming from. He knew how he really, really felt. And he knew that he couldn’t change it. Reid whimpered as Hankel begged him to tell him if it made it better or not, he knew that it did. Spencer knew that feeling was what he needed, but to feel nothing was what he wanted. He liked being around his mother again, he missed the feeling of being normal. </em><em><br/>
</em> <em>The last time Hankel drugged him, he dreamed of sharing a bed with Hotch in Montana last year. The Dilaudid gave him the feeling of euphoria, it brought him back to memories of feeling loved, feeling safe. He was anything but at the minute. It was cold, and the two of them had accredited it to feeling lonely and their needs for warmth, but Aaron would end up crawling into the bed from behind, wrapping his strong arms around him. The moment lingered from the high, remembering every single cadence of the older man's breaths. Spencer remembered turning around to curl his arms onto Hotch as well, body warming up fully at the feeling of weight on his forehead for a moment. He hoped it was an accident, but it lingered too long for it to possibly be. He looked up sleepily, admiring the soft features, the two vulnerable. He watched him dream for nearly half an hour before Spencer fell asleep as well, smiling at his expression.</em></p><p>
  <em> Aaron was the first to wake in the morning, looking down at the younger boy's golden hair and listening to his lazy snores peppered under the sound of the phone buzzing. “Hotchner,” he whispered, grip tightening around Spencer’s waist. He shifted a bit, then soon looked up at him with a lazy smile. “Hey,” he started, running a hand through the long hair beneath him, enjoying the sensation too much to be friendly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Good morning,” Reid giggled tiredly, lounging lazily into the embrace. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Local PD says they have another body,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I hope you slept well enough then,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Like a baby, let’s go,” The two don’t talk about it, and Aaron goes right back home to his family once the unsub is caught. There was a silent acknowledgment about the dangerous feeling the both of them had at the intimacy, noting that a fluttering sensation in the chest would in fact be considered wildly inappropriate. He liked the feeling of his mother reading to him, it made him feel small and safe in a similar way. He liked the feeling. He liked the people who made him feel that way more. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Reid watched as the man in front of him gazed at the monitors, expecting a pleasant reaction to the videos in front of him. Instead, a virus appears on the screen, causing Raphael to scream. “I can’t control what they do. I’m not with them, I’m with you,” He tripped on his words, silently begging for his life.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Really?” His voice was darker than he had ever heard it, turning to click onto the keyboard. Gideon’s face showed up as the clip played for them both. His heart sank, tears running down his face. The monitors shut down the second the message ended, his hands shaking at the spirit who faced him. “You think you can defy me?” He growled.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I don’t know what he’s talking about,” his throat was dry and he could barely breathe.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You’re a liar!” Reid flinched. He watched as the figure looked down at the man’s arm, aggressively pulling up the sleeve. His grip was tight and he watched as Charles returned. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You’re pitiful! Just like my son,” he spat, powering on the camera. He shook, coiling back into the chair. “This ends now.” It ends now, his life ends today, Spencer’s thoughts were tainted from the drugs and the fear. There was nothing he could do. Nothing. “Confess your sins,” He shouted, kicking him violently when his response was to tremble more.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Confess!” For a moment, Reid wanted to tell him the feeling that he felt when he was with Hotch. How he liked boys and girls, how that wasn’t wrong. How his mother told him it wasn’t wrong, how the priest at the community church told him it wasn’t wrong. Hankel was starting to convince him otherwise, and he wanted to just tell him, he wanted to let go. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I haven’t done anything,” he whimpered, voice squawking out like a bird </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Tobias, help me!” His voice was high, breaking. His body knew that he was begging to live, and it was almost shutting down.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “He can’t help you. He’s weak. Confess!”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Tobias,” Reid whimpered, his stomach twisting. A heavy slap came to his face, causing a feeling of feverish pain to soar through him.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Confess your sins,” he said through Spencer’s whimpers, pulling back his hair.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No,” he squeaked, whimpering. If he would die for how he felt, then he’d die. He accepted death, he welcomed it, even if it was just for a second. Charles grabbed the chair, screaming at him.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No?” The chair fell back quickly, and he shut his eyes tight as he hit the floor with full force. He felt something in his brain snap, gasping for his breath. He breathed in quickly, knowing that his life was over.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Death never was his friend, he had dealt with it every day of his life. Some days Spencer had hoped that he could die in the place of all of the victims he had come to get to know after their murders. He would die so everyone on the team could live, he would die for his family. Nobody he loved was ever on the “other side”, but he knew that he would be able to watch from there on his own and protect them through it all, he accepted death knowing it would save someone else from it.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> His eyes opened in a dark room, it was warm and he noticed a small bit of ambiance coming from the corner. The smell was sweet and inviting, the room large but still homely. He walked to what looked like the flame in the corner, analyzing it carefully. It was a candle, next to it a matchbox. He placed the box into his pocket, then walked to the center of the room slowly. He noticed what seemed to be a chandelier, so he quickly put the candle onto the floor, lighting up every single outlet on the fixture with his matchbox. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The beacon shot up, the other lights in the room following. He noticed doors around the room first, then acknowledged that he was in a home library, a familiar one at that. He walked around the baroque room, then out the largest door. Behind it was a grand hallway, similar to the one you’d find in a palace. He walked around for a while, admiring the shelves adorned with books old and new, the estate in pristine condition yet worn and cozy. He walked outside to a bright room after noticing the scenery behind a grand glass door. It looked as if he were in the palace of Versailles, one that he and his mother were well-versed on. The only difference was most of the interior seemed to be something that he’d have in his own home. He walked around for hours, admiring the rooms, the smells, the novels, the clothes in closets, and then, the music in the ballroom. There was a large symphony of musicians playing some of his favorite pieces to relax, and he found himself walking over behind the conductor's shoulder, swaying to the music. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “He has to be alive,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You’re stronger than him,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Voices echoed over the piece, and Spencer was back into the room he had started in after he blinked. The room got darker, and panic started to fill him. He wanted to stay here, he wanted to be alone and at peace. He sat down in an old chair in the corner, burying his head in his hands. Suddenly, a heavy feeling in his chest had stopped him from his sobs. It happened again, and again, then again. The room was fully dark now, so he reached into his pocket to retrieve the golden matchbox. It was gone. He felt a final blow to his chest, then he heard himself cough loudly.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He opened his eyes to see a bright light, shifting his head to the side instantly at the sensation. He noticed an etched tombstone to his left, and he darted his gaze back to the figure on top of him. His chest was aching worse than his mind, trying to collect his thoughts. Right- He was with Hankel, and he had him held somewhere. It was a cemetery, Charles was a poacher. He groaned in pain, whimpering with every breath.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You came back to life,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Rafael,” he remembered, whispering. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “There can only be one of two reasons,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I was given C.P.R.,” He groaned, not in the mood to speak to anyone. He wanted to be back with his books. With the music, the nice smells. He liked it there.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “There are no accidents, how many members are on your team?” Reid looked over at the camera with labored breaths before managing to speak again. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Seven,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “The seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound,” Reid was quiet, breathing softly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “The first sounding there followed hail and fire mixed with blood, and they were thrown to Earth,” He registered the story from Revelations and thought of his plan from before. If it had worked so far, then he needed to think quickly about his words. He brought Spencer up in the chair quickly, causing his head to spin. “Tell me who you serve,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I serve you,” he tried, shoulders slouching heavily. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Then choose one to die.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “What?”He was genuinely taken aback by the request, it wasn’t just his job that made him so, but his morals as well, to think that he has no right to choose who lives or dies.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Your team members- choose one to die,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Kill me,” he begged curtly. He was in pain already- psychologically and physically. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You said you weren’t one of them,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I lied,” he snapped back. Reid had busted his ass for years to get where he was and to get even the smallest ounce of respect for it, too. He was proud.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Your team has six other members, tell me who dies,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No,” He pulled out a revolver, loading it with a bullet. He could die again, be back with his books, that was fine. He could stay, suffer a bit, who knows how long, and be back with his family. Only the family could possibly be down a member, which could destroy him.  He wouldn’t mind it either way. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Choose, and prove you’ll do God’s will” He couldn’t, dying wasn’t so bad either. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No,” The trigger clicked and the shot didn’t come. He thought he did, if there was a way that he could choose, he could do it right. He could get his plan through like that. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Choose,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I won’t do it”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Life is a choice,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Choose,” he paused, thinking about who could possibly understand and what their sin could even be.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> JJ was sweet, she could probably be guilty of nothing more than cursing or wearing gold jewelry. She couldn’t hurt a fly. Emily was anxious, bitter, but caring if you’d get to know her more. She was lovely, but he could always say that she was a liar. He knew that she had her secrets, and he frankly didn’t care. Garcia was bubbly, but she could be said to be mischievous to Raphael. The two were involved in a prank war that seemed to be never-ending. Gideon was kind to him, he was virtuous. He was smart, and he understood others. Spencer could tell the man in front of him that he was a liar- he had to lie to unsubs all the time. Morgan was promiscuous. Everyone loved him for it. He was flirtatious, charming, and an absolute gentleman. Morgan was like his brother, he was always there, always honest.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Hotch, God, Hotch was Hotch. He wore designer silk ties and Rolex watches, he defended victims and criminals alike in court, he had a fire in his eyes that made Spencer melt. The two of them knew that they hadn’t acted on desire yet, but it was only a matter of time. Hotch was the perfect person to choose, and he knew why. He thought of a way to quickly get through his thick skull, the only thought in his mind now was a wish to see the look on his face in a second. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I choose, I choose Aaron Hotchner,” He paused, glaring. “He’s a classic narcissist. He thinks he’s better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4. ‘Let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense’,” He cited, eyes looking to the camera for a fraction of a second. The gunshot rang out in the small room, causing him to flinch. The cartridge fell and Reid relaxed for a moment, watching the archangel add a new bullet to the barrel. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “For God’s will,” He muttered, walking away. Reid smiled, looking back at the memory.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> They had just returned from the case of the Fisher King, and the two had stayed behind to prepare files for some junior agents who were to conduct custodial interviews the next day. Reid was slurping on noodles that they had got from takeout nearby, tapping his hand on an image of the inmate.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “This guy’s a narcissist, of course. Brags about his kills to inmates, but get this; the kills were sloppy shots made from the far range- he left a mess at the scene and ran off right after he pulled the trigger. I wouldn’t brag about that if I were him,” Hotch looked up from his fried rice, smiling back at the remark. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “That doesn’t make him a narcissist, Reid,” the younger boy placed down his fork slowly, fake hurt tainted over his face.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Enlighten me, then,” Hotch admired how bold he was at the moment, he had no idea what to attribute the playful behavior to either.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “They feel entitled, they’re vain, they think that they’re special and the most important person in the room. They think that they can have anyone and anything when they want, be it sexually, in a friend group, at work, you name it,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Wrong,” He snapped back, smiling. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Oh?” Aaron found himself entertaining his playfulness, enjoying the company. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “A classic narcissist puts himself above others, they’re arrogant, envious of people in a higher place of power, oh! They have zero empathy as well. They want to be admired by others, you know? I do agree with you about their thoughts about their ability to get anyone in bed, though,” He said, not a single statistic laced in his rhetoric. Hotch sat back in his chair, watching Reid as he grabbed the pot of coffee from the bullpen and poured himself a mug. The two argued back and forth about what a narcissist would really be for almost an hour- there was a point where they had gone down the hall to bother Kevin, who was working the night shift, to ask him to pull up files on the topic. They eventually agreed to disagree, returning to conjuring up interview questions and techniques.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He drank the water that was brought to his mouth, inhaling it selfishly. “Tobias, is that you?” He whispered, smiling. Aaron would find him soon, he’d be okay. He nodded, kneeling to meet his eyes. “Thank you, you saved my life,” Reid gasped, losing his breath for a moment.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’m sorry,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Why?” Reid said, concern in his voice </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “He’ll win in the end,” He was sorry for him, but he wanted out more than anything. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Tobias, I need to know something. It’s important.” He looked up at the boy in the chair expectantly. “Are we in a cemetery?” He nodded, causing a warm feeling in his gut. He did it.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I used to come here to get high,” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I was right,” he laughed, smiling genuinely. He’d see the others soon. Tobias injected him again after a second, and he saw his mother once again. The memory was painful, guilt washed over him. A part of his subconscious told him that what he had done was anything but sinful, that his mother had been given the best care she could get in Nevada, but the drugs had clouded his thinking. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’m so sorry,” he pleaded, feeling a sharp gaze from behind. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “What are you sorry for, boy?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I sent her away,” he whispered through tears. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Who?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “My mom. I couldn’t, I couldn’t help her,” he felt ashamed at the moment, but a part of his gut was terrified, his body trying to wash the Dilaudid out of his system through force. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Is that a confession?” he nodded in a daze, sniffling.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I confess,” said softly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You know your bible. Exodus 21:27.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “‘And he that curseth his father or his mother, shall surely be put to death’.” he grimaced, mind fuzzy. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Grab a shovel,” He says after removing his chains. This was the best option he had, Reid thought. They’d find him easier outside in the graveyard, and if they didn’t in time he’d die for what he did.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He dug through the ground weakly, trying to stall. Voices and a plethora of footsteps echoed in the distance, which Charles didn’t notice. Spencer stopped for a moment, thinking silently to himself about calling for Hotch or not.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “What’re you stopping for?” He spat, stroking the blade in his hands. He looked down in response, slowly resuming his digging. The lights drew closer, causing him to slow his pace more. “Dig faster,” he commanded. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’m not strong enough,” Reid squeaked, begging. He slouched into his shovel for support, but the hairs quickly stood up from behind his back when he drew closer, removing his coat.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You’re all weak! Get out of there,” he mumbled, his gaze moving over with Spencer’s as a light shone brightly. As soon as it had caught his eye, he grabbed hold of the revolver, praying that the bullet was seated right in the barrel. “Only one bullet in that gun, boy,” He said, charging at him with the knife.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Front sight, trigger, press, follow through.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The shot rang out loudly, slicing right through Hankel’s chest. He fell to the floor sloppily, a voice running through his mind.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Nice shot, Reid! </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He got up instantly, limping over to the body on the ground. His entire being was in pain, sensations shooting from all over. He threw the knife out of the older man’s reach, leaning over the body. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Reid!” Hotch’s scream echoed from far away, causing him to look up for a moment before returning his focus back to the man beneath him. “Over there,” He rushed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You killed him,” Tobias gasped, thanking Spencer. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Tobias?” He felt guilty, the man didn’t deserve to die with the other two, but there was no other way. At least he wouldn’t die alone, Reid thought.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “There he is,” The voice was authoritative to his team, and he could feel the others nearing.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’m sorry,” he finally whispered, heart, falling to the floor once he heard his last breath finish. He looked up to see a team led by Aaron and Gideon, sighing in relief at the sight.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Aaron squatted down to eye level with the younger man, trying to pick him up softly. Prentiss was behind him, helping him. Spencer registered the warm touch, the soft voice, and presence. Reid smiled a bit as they lifted him, meeting the man’s gaze.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Are you alright?” Tears brimmed his eyes, something that he had never seen before. His arm was supportive on his own, strong to let him know that he wouldn’t let him fall again.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I knew you’d understand,” his voice broke, hand trailing up his arm. He pulled Hotch into a desperate hug, quickly reciprocated by the other man. It was warm and inviting, too short for either of their likings, but he knew that Reid needed a medic quickly, and his safety was always a priority. He pulled back, arms still strong on his body, almost picking him up as he walked over to JJ. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I am so sorry,” she whispered, hugging him tightly. Gideon was about to carry him off when Spencer asked his mentor for a moment, walking over to Hankel to grab the bottles from the corpse’s pocket. He hugged himself, guilt, and regret overcoming him quickly. He stumbled over to where everyone else was, Gideon and Prentiss carrying him over to the rest of the team to regroup. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Thank you guys,” he whispered, swaying a bit. “Please know that this isn’t any of your faults, it was just an unfortunate accident,” his voice broke again, and everyone offered him looks of sympathy before hugging each other close.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’ll let Garcia know that you’re alright, she’s back at Hankel’s cabin. Aaron, would you mind riding the ambulance with Reid and getting him something warm to wear? We’ll see you at the hospital,” Gideon said, calm and stoic. Reid always liked him, he was a rock to always ensure that there were good days in the world sometimes. The paramedics were waiting at the cabin, and Hotch had excused himself to grab his jacket from the truck. Reid took it with a toothy smile, enjoying the large feel of it and the smell of Hotch. It was always clean with traces of his cologne and wooden scents, likely aftershave. He sat in the corner of the vehicle as they worked around Spencer, patching him up noisily. The nearest hospital was a while away, and they had all finished the work they could do long before they were even close. Hotch thanked them and slid over to the boy on the gurney. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I walked into the room and you were dead on the floor,” he started, making the boy sigh.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Hotch, this isn’t your fault,” he begged, but the man had shushed him before he could continue. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Let me talk, please?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I might if you hold my hand,” it was sudden and came from God knows where in Spencer’s mind, but what shocked him more was when he had listened, taking his calloused hand into his own.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I was scared to lose you, it wasn’t something I was willing to do. You’re so young and I don’t want your blood on my conscience.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “That’s something a narcissist would say,” Reid quipped, trying to make him smile. It almost worked. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I told Gideon that I take advantage of you and your brain, but I never teach you about your emotional response. I can’t. I’m not good with my emotions. I can’t teach you anything,” He laughed pitifully at himself, causing the boy to shift to his side to see him better. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You teach me a lot. You don’t have to be good with emotions to have them. You’re not a narcissist either, Aaron. I didn’t mean that I want you to know I didn’t. You have so much empathy and power and love in your heart. You’re smart in ways I struggle with. You have this, this passion, this fire in your eyes. It scares me sometimes. So yes, you do teach me about emotions by showing me you have them in the first place. You’re an excellent mentor,” He says reassuringly, stroking the back of his hand with his thumb.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’m going to do a lot better with you from now on, I hope. I’m here for you, Spencer. I want you to know that,” he squeezed his hand as he said it, and he closed his eyes for a moment, thinking. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Charles took my gun, the one you gave me after the LDSK,” Hotch laughed slightly, striving to keep a straight face. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Tell you what. We get back to Quantico and I can take you to get a new one, that should be the least of your issues right now, idiot,” he was smiling. Reid watched the smile, it stayed on his face. He liked his smile, he liked Aaron a lot. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It hit him as soon as they had rolled him out of the ambulance. He started to laugh uncontrollably at himself, causing one of the paramedics to look at her team member with concern. It only made him laugh more. Spencer just did something pathetic, something that he really shouldn’t have. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He just fell in love with Aaron Hotchner. </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>leave kudos and comment for some more !</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. earl grey</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>     “Emily,” Reid gasped, waking up in a cold sweat. He heard soft footsteps approach him as he clutched his fingers deeper into the mattress beneath him. She opened the door carefully, gun trained lazily onto the window. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “You’re okay?” She asked once she noticed that he was the only person sitting, kneeling down to meet his eyes. He nodded softly in return, his heart rate slowing down from the jolt. “Can I get you some water? Some tissues? You were just crying,” he liked how gentle she was with him. He felt fragile, knowing that she was with him gave him a sense of ease. He was safe with Prentiss. His head moved up and down again, listening to the sound of her leaving and entering the room gently. She returned with a bottle of water and a couple of crumpled tissues, wiping his eyes gently. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Thank you,” He muttered, gripping onto the blanket tightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Do you want to talk? I’m a good listener,” She whispered, offering him a soft look. Spencer looked up from the plastic bottle he was gripping, bowing his head. “It’s the middle of the night, you probably know that, but since neither of us can sleep, we need to pass the time somehow,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Tobias Hankel,” He choked, causing her to sigh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “I’m sorry,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Don’t be. It was even more vivid than the others, I could smell everything, I felt the same way that I did at the moment and it hurt. It hurt, Emily,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “I know it did, let’s go inside, I’ll make you some tea,” She helped him up gently, propping herself on the couch once the pot began to heat up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “It’s funny, really. This job almost cost me my life a half dozen times, and I’ve dreamed about them all after tonight.” She shifted softly, wrapping herself in the throw behind her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “I thought that he wouldn’t find me for a minute, I thought I’d be gone for good, you know. Tobias ruined my life, got me on Dilaudid, some days I was so sick because of it. I was a horrible person because of it, but I wouldn’t’ve had it any other way. It’s made me better, I guess,” She smiled at the thought, the piercing sound of water boiling interrupting her comment. Spencer watched as she lifted herself off of the couch with ease, moving over to the kitchen to pour two servings of tea into the china. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Earl grey, your favorite,” He welcomed the warmth in his hand, sipping the blend thoughtfully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Only when you make it,” He teased. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “I didn’t want to ask you before, but you seemed a bit better today compared to the other days you’ve been here. Remember, you don’t have to answer this either.” He sat in comfortable silence, waiting for the brunette to continue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Foyet takes something from his victims, too. He only left you something as far as I know. Thoughts?” Reid paused, looking down at the amber drink in the cup, focused on the ripples he was creating.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “He took something, yeah,” She sat back in the warm seat, reaching for the remote. Emily didn’t mind if that would be all she would get out of him for today, as long as his walls dented- even the tiniest bit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “He took Aaron away,” he whispered, tone empty. She stopped herself from pressing the power button, looking up to him to meet his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “He’s okay, Reid,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “No, he’s not. Foyet, he made sure that Hotch would be gone, a ghost of himself. He’s so scared for a call saying that Hayley and Jack were killed, to get the call that his family was murdered. That it would be his fault. He’s gone, Emily. There’s nothing that I can do,” Her heart contracted at the comment, finding herself at a loss for words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “I’m right here, I won’t be gone anytime soon. And I know that it’s not the same, but it’s something, right?” She reached her arm out into his space, setting her tea down onto the table. He followed suit, grabbing onto her fingers and placing them into hers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “It’s something,” he repeated, smiling weakly. He had found an older sister in Prentiss, he felt comfortable with her, he could laugh with her, he trusted her. A phone rang in the distance, causing her to scoff in annoyance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>    “Really, it’s only a little bit over four.” She muttered, waddling over to the kitchen counter, flipping Reid off as he laughed. “Prentiss,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “And they invited us?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “That’s fine, I’ll be there in the hour,” She heard Spencer sigh, shifting on the couch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “We have a case, you’re staying here,” She muttered, exhaustion lacing her voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Is that </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> necessary?” He moaned in irritation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>      “Yes, it is. You’re safe here, it’s okay. Just another week,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>      “It has to be a week?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>      “You can’t even walk on your own, so yes, yes it does,” She joked. “You’re lucky my mother knows an orthopedic surgeon, otherwise you’d be stuck in Quantico next week,” She joked, sliding down the hall to grab her things. She returned in a moment, slipping out of her loungewear and into a grey pantsuit. She ran into the kitchen, flipping on her espresso machine. “Want any?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>      “I’m going back to bed when you leave, tell me about the case,” he begged.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>      “Terror threat in St. Louis, I’ll call you with some updates, I promise.” He turned his head back, watching her quick movements as she tapped into the gun safe, watching her swiftly place the gun down her holster. “There’s takeout in the fridge, coffee's made if you need. I locked the windows, the alarm’s on, too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Good luck,” he whispered, seeing her down her macchiato and toast rapidly. “And be safe,”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “Call me if anything seems iffy. Love ya,” she rushed, hand on the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     “I will. Love you, too,” the door shut and clicked, she was gone. Reid’s eyes shut again after a moment, welcoming in the warmth that the fireplace offered him. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. the eye of providence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>spoiler for season 4 ep 18, cannon divergence again but matches with the ep timeline.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>its a ~dream~</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Reid was sat facing a small round table in Boston, explaining some of the observations he had noticed at The Reaper’s crime scenes. He paused for a moment, listening intently to an emergency call made by the killer. He thought for a moment about the curious circumstance surrounding Foyet; it was odd for him to have been the only survivor. He watched as Hotch excused himself from the room, planning to meet a journalist that JJ had announced to him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Most of the officers had scattered around, returning to their posts. Reid returned himself to stare at his board, squinting at the photographs from a crime scene. “See something?” Prentiss whispered, bumping her hip into his teasingly. He sighed, moving his head to meet hers, watching her absentmindedly view the notes on the wall. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, I’m just trying to think. If the unsub knew that he wanted his victims dead, he would probably wait to see it. He’s a sadist, of course, he would want to see his victims take their last breath. So why Foyet? Why leave without making sure he was dead?” He tried, rubbing his temples harshly after a moment.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Right,” she started, a look of worry plastering her face. “So um, there’s a cafe with a library a few blocks away,” he looked up at her, brows furrowed. “You aren’t the only one who lived here, and you look like you need a break. My treat,” Reid smiled at the gesture, walking over to grab a hold of his satchel. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>_________</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was dark out when Spencer’s phone started to buzz annoyingly, Emily’s following after a moment. She put down her Emily Dickinson novel, her eyes rolling back in irritation. “JJ,” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Rossi”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The two had checked out their books for the night, running over to the station swiftly. “She said that there were two new bodies, the same signature. Eye of Providence,” he swung open the large glass door, holding it for her briefly. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Rossi and Hotch are already at the scene, let’s debrief,” JJ said, sliding a tablet across the table once they had taken their seats.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s him,” Reid whispered, groaning. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They delivered the profile, walking into a small room abruptly once Prentiss had entered the bullpen to call them in. She and Morgan explained that Foyet disappeared, causing Spencer to have a small feeling in his toes. He dismissed it, accrediting it to his lack of sleep. He walked out of the room, distancing himself for a moment from the rest of his team. Aaron’s presence was looming from behind him, causing him to instantly spin on the back of his heel. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Should we talk about it?” his voice was soft and deep, yet not small enough to be a whisper. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m fine, promise,” his mouth curled into a ghost of a smile, causing the other man to scoff in defeat, hugging his figure. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’d like to either way. This case is important to me and I could use your input. I’ll even get you some books on the way back to the hotel, I can only imagine how bored you must be,” he jived, keeping his voice low and a professional distance in the crowded office.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t flatter yourself, but really, it’s fine. Emily and I went to a library and I checked two books out for myself already. I don’t need anymore, and I especially don’t need to waste your money,” Hotch smiled gently, his eyes softening.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That’s fine by me, Reid. I hope that the books you found were good. You’re coming with me, anyway, I need that brain of yours to pick out a book for me. Not everything has to be about you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Ouch, I’m wounded,” he joked, starting walking away from the man. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well?” He said after a moment, squinting his eyes playfully.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fine,” Reid decided, his muscles relaxing, his mind at ease. He returned to the board, the movement and chatter of the room resuming. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was late when Hotch had opened the large mahogany door of the shop, holding the door for Spencer with a smile. He watched the face of his paramour shift into a childlike smile, beaming at the man. “I lived here three years, how come I didn’t know that this existed and you did?” He shrugged in response, standing by the doorway. The shop was larger than the Harvard library, flooded with thoughtful patrons browsing the shelves. Aaron watched the man spin around for a moment, admiring the way he looked in the dim lights. “What the hell are you waiting for? Let’s go,” He grabbed onto his hand enthusiastically, dragging him down the wide hallway, noting some of his favorite books as he passed them. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Spencer yanked Hotch from shelf to shelf, rigorously ranting about any author that he saw. He smirked, soon making a game out of his enthusiastic mind. Hotch would stop every so often, yanking a book from the shelf just to see if he had read it before. It would be nearly four hours later until he would help Aaron pick out his books, vigorously stacking six works into the taller man’s arms. He smiled down at him, musing as to how endearing he had been acting. “What is it?” Reid asked, meeting the relaxed gaze.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Get as many as you want, Spencer,” his voice was smooth, flowing right into his ears. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Really?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Really,” He beamed at this, mashing a quick kiss to his lips in response. He walked behind Reid in a daze, watching him as he had picked up more than a dozen old novels, dust crawling over most of them. He felt his heart drive out of his chest seeing the way that he smiled more with each book he picked up, capturing the way his long hair carpeted his face when he looked down. After a few minutes, he looked up apologetically, blushing with embarrassment. Aaron snorted, shrugging gently. “No, it’s not too much and yes, as many as you want. I can carry some for you, here.” he cooed, alleviating his thoughts. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Last one,” he whispered, placing a small book of poems onto the desk he had settled the books onto. Hotch laughed wholeheartedly at the sight, gingerly gripping onto as many pieces as he could. Spencer waddled down the steps, clutching carefully onto what his lover couldn’t carry. He stood close to Hotch as a clerk delicately handled the books, placing them neatly into large bags. His jaw nearly dropped to the ground as soon as the gray-haired woman had read the total out to Hotch, his jaw opening more when he saw him hand over his card without care. He shook his head with laughter as Reid hit his arm in shock, gripping onto the bags the woman gave him. They both walked outside the man with the lighter hair shooting a carnal look behind his head. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That was too much,” he decided, opening the door to the Cadillac slowly. Hotch’s head lifted from the handle, the door opening swiftly. He was more than happy to have done something to make him so happy, so relaxed. Spencer deserved what little happiness Aaron could give him, even if it cost him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That was too little if you ask me. You wanted the whole store,” He chuckled, starting the car. “Do you know if there’s a bakery that’s open on the way to the hotel? I could eat,” His gaze didn’t avert from the road, watching Spencer toy with his small phone from the corner of his eye.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“17th and Canal,” he whispered. Aaron turned to face him at a stop, raising his brow at him sarcastically. “‘M mad at you.” He decided, making his lips curl into a smile. Only Spencer made him smile as much as he did, something he was conclusively proud of.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sorry,” he said through laughter. “It made you smile, which made me smile,” He was silent the rest of the ride to the bakery, insisting that his superior go inside by himself, his arms crossed in a false attempt to appear grouchy. He muttered a ‘thank you’ when Hotch returned with a frosted chocolate cupcake and water, munching greedily on it as they had cruised down the highway. It was an ungodly hour when the dark car had pulled into the garage of the hotel, the two of them drowsily waddling down the hallway to Aaron’s room. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Spencer gently took off his jacket and sweater after dropping his bags, plopping into the armchair in the corner with grace. He watched as the other man in the room took off his grey jacket, placing it onto a hanger roughly. He took a case file from the table and sprawled its contents onto the crisp, dark sheets, sighing. “Well,” he asked, his tone turned more manic than before.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ll look it over with you, let me shower first,” Reid decided, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. “And Hotch?” he turned around at the sound of his name, looking up from a file. “I forgive you. Thank you,” he mumbled tiredly, pressing a deep kiss to his chapped lips. “Be back in a second. I love you,” he reminded him, dropping his belt on the armchair on his way to the bathroom. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Love you, too,” he heard from the other side of the door, grinning slightly in response. He washed himself off quickly, muscles relaxing at the release the hot water had given his body. He turned the knob off, throwing on the robe that lay messily on the back of the door. He was brushing his teeth when the phone rang.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hotchner,” he heard papers hitting the bed quickly, tiredly dismissing it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Who is this?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You think I’d take that?” he placed the toothbrush down carefully, turning his gaze to the door.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ve misjudged you. I thought you were smarter than this,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And you’ve misjudged me,” Reid sighed silently, placing his hair up slightly. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t make deals. I’m the guy who hunts guys like you,” he cautiously turned the knob, peering outside the crack in the door.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You all think that,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He walked towards his suitcase, more awake now. “I’ll see you soon,” he growled, slamming the phone down. He watched him pace the room for a moment, staring at the crime scene photos. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey,” Reid whispered, approaching him cautiously. Hotch looked up, stunned. “Who was it?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“The Reaper,” he deflated at that, suddenly feeling a lot less safe than before. He shuffled, throwing on boxers and one of Aaron’s T-shirts before moving over to the photos on the bed, organizing them with intention. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What did he want?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“To make another deal,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And you didn’t give it to him. Good,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“He said I’d regret it,” He choked, quivering for a moment before sitting down on the hard bed. Reid sighed, passing all of the photos into the file and throwing it onto the floor carelessly. He walked over to the agent, bending down to face him. Aaron looked up with fear and frustration, his eyes shutting closed as Reid kissed him carefully, cupping both sides of his face.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It was the right decision, Aaron,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What if it wasn’t?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Then if you break, you give him what he wants. You know that” he looked up sympathetically, watching the slim figure traipse around the room, eventually prodding his suitcase for pajamas. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re good to me,” he concludes, taking the clothes from his hands.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re better to me, Hotch. Can we sleep now?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We can sleep now,” Reid smiled tiredly, climbing onto the bed. Hotch shimmied out of his dress shirt and pants and into the sweater and flannel, maneuvering himself comfortable behind the brunette. He snaked his arms around the small waist, nuzzling his head gently in the space behind his head and shoulder. After a moment, Spencer tossed over on the quilt, facing Aaron. He wrapped a leg over his side, deepening the embrace. A kiss was pressed warmly onto his forehead, sleep nearly taking the both of them. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We’re gonna be fine, Reid,” he waited for a response but was instead given a soft, shallow snore. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The piercing sound of two cell phones ringing caused Spencer to twitch, quickly rolling over to the nightstand to reach for his device. He felt the weight of the mattress shift as the other man reached for his phone, answering it hesitantly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hotchner,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“This is Dr. Spencer Reid,” He broke from the embrace, bending his arm so he sat on the bed. He listened absentmindedly to the agent on the other line as he watched Hotch leap out of the bed, messily shifting through the closet for a suit. The agent explained to Reid that there had been several more victims, this time all clustered onto a bus. Spencer sighed in defeat, leaping out of the bed and waddling over to his go-bag. He watched as the older man hung up his phone, strapping his holster to his ankle. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m going to the scene with Rossi, do you mind if I drop you off at the station?” Spencer nodded, smoothing his vest onto his figure. He placed his gun in place on his belt, slipping on his shoes and lacing them quickly. “Let’s go,” He groaned, already striding down the hall. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hotch had been crying when he and Rossi returned to the station, expression tainted with defeat and exhaustion. Reid was analyzing the crime scene photos that rested down on the desk, his mind buzzing. He and the Italian man walked over to where he was standing, looking down at the mess that had been scrawled onto the table. “He never used code before, why now?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“They’re not part of a pattern or equation. I mean mathematically, they’re insignificant,” he explained, fiddling with his pen in his left hand.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Maybe so, but I know I’ve seen them before,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Foyet said he likes to attack people in their cars, tonight he hit a bus,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Which is why Foyet only takes a bus,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It was the number seven, and it stops right in front of Foyet’s apartment,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“He knows where Foyet lives”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And he wants us to know it,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“1439. The apartment you interviewed him in today was 1439 Yarbrough,” Rossi opened a small notebook up to a list of addresses, matching the codes to meet the numbers. Reid met Aaron’s gaze, a wave of confusion settling in. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We’ll split up and cover each address.” Reid strode over to the locker room, the rest of the team meeting to regroup after a moment. The sounds of kevlar adjusting filled the hollow space, the bodies becoming frenzied. “Reid, you’re with me,” Hotch yelled from across the room, jogging out the door. They had entered the garage, the two hopping into the SUV promptly. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s cold, my jacket’s in the back,” he said, the car revving. He turned around, fitting the large bomber onto his figure as they fled from the building. They had been ten minutes away, the ride silent apart from the blaring sounds of sirens. Aaron’s driving was manic, his hand settled tightly on the wheel. They had pulled onto a space on the street directly by the worn home, the vehicle stopping with a screech. He had parked the car and frantically unlocked the doors, hand on the lever.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Aaron,” Spencer breathed, catching his eye. He whipped his head back to see the doctor, expression blank. He leaned over the seat, rushing him a quick kiss. “Okay, go,” He walked up the steps first, training his gun to his side. Reid looked around, clutching onto his revolver. The door was unlocked, the two quickly storming inside. He stayed behind the older man as they walked around the house, finding not a single trace of Foyet. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He jogged down the stairs, pressing a hand onto the radio. “We got nothing,” He panted, swinging the car door open. “Any word from Derek,” he whispers to Hotch, twisting the key into the ignition.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Nothing, send backup to his location. Let’s go,” They were late to arrive at the scene, Rossi and Prentiss already waiting by their car. Examiners were wheeling out a body, Rossi and Hotch walking over. He lifted the sheet off of the head, causing Hotch to sigh. Reid had wandered into the house, whispering an ‘I’m sorry’ to Morgan before making his way through the scene. He heard Prentiss and Aaron console their friend, looking over to see Derek clutching onto a bullet. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He stared down at the amount of blood in the kitchen, the smell overpowering. Hotch’s presence took over the room, looking down at the marks on the floor. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“O’Mara was clearly killed outside, this was someone else. There are signs of a struggle and a lot of blood,” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“But no body,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Just the drag marks. The human body holds five quarts of blood, I’d say there’s a little more than half that here. Whoever the bleeder was, they lost too much to survive,” Rossi’s voice had come and gone, Hotch’s following. Spencer watched the trail of blood, an icy feeling pounding through his mind. That could’ve been his blood. It could’ve been Aaron’s blood. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They returned to the station, exhaustion radiating through the agents sat at the round table. Reid squinted at the thoughts circulating of Foyet teaching at Michigan and marrying a girl he had just met. The phone had rung once before the sound of Penelope’s voice emerged, quickly responding to queries about Foyet’s aliases. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“George Foyet is the Reaper,” Hotch said, panicked. They ran over to the locker room for the second time that night, arriving at the address that Garcia had given them in a panic. They circled the home, watching from the shadows as Hotch and Rossi had trained their guns on him. Morgan had motioned for them to move in, a horrible feeling sinking into his stomach when he lowered his gun. SWAT had arrived at the scene, walking him roughly into a truck, promising to take him into the local federal prison. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Reid arranged his things back into his bag quietly, smiling weakly at Aaron before leaving. He was tired, more than tired. Foyet’s words pierced through him coldly, a fear present in the back of his mind that he would be right. That somehow he could be ‘more famous’ than they realized. It was after two in the morning when they had left the airstrip, Spencer settling into a seat in the corner, trying to close his eyes. The ride home was quick, and they were all soon riding up the elevator to the office, chattering quietly amongst themselves. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Prentiss was asking Spencer about getting something to eat after they had finished their reports, to which he had politely declined. He removed his satchel and placed it onto his desk quickly, following Hotch into his office.“I haven’t gone to the Smithsonian with Jack in a while, how about you sleep in today and I can treat him?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“He’d like that a lot, but I think I should go with you,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And I think you should rest, Hotch. How hard can a day with Jack even be?” He snorted at this, sitting down at his desk chair quietly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Be my guest,” he smiled, his hand extending jokingly. Spencer scoffed, turning out of the room and smiling at Rossi waiting in front of him. He eventually finished his work, now spinning around in a rolling chair while Derek and Prentiss joked back and forth. He was making himself a cup of tea when JJ stormed into the bullpen, phones quickly echoing atop each other before she could speak. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“He’s gone,” she said, the entire office erupting into a silent panic. Anderson turned on the television swiftly, Derek slammed files down to his desk, Prentiss quickly reaching for her phone. Reid heard the fax machines sound, rushing over as fast as he could.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What do you mean, he’s gone?” came the voice of Lynch, who was currently striding down the hallway with Penelope in a frenzy. He analyzed the maps carefully, looking up every so often to see when JJ would be done with her phone calls. She debriefed the room, running up to Hotch’s office, the door swinging open with a thud. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Get me the U.S. Marshal's office,” came Hotch’s voice, causing Anderson to rush over to a phone on the table. Prentiss and Spencer approached the group quickly once they had descended the stairs, quickly introducing what Reid had just told her.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“They’re schematics for the electrical, heating, and water ducts for the East Woburn Correctional Facility,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“He had the schematics,” Hotch repeated, tone edging dangerously. He gripped onto the maps that Reid had handed him, nearly folding over the documents. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And not just for Woburn. For every jail, prison, and courthouse in Massachusetts,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And ten years to plan,” Rossi added, looking over to Garcia blankly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“They’re gonna find him, right?” she choked, nearly crying. They all looked up at the television when Hotch spoke again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No, they’re not,”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“He said he’d be more famous than we knew, and he was right,” Morgan whispered, Reid’s jaw instantly clenching at the revelation. He didn’t speak for the rest of the night, hopping into his car as soon as he had the chance to be home, jumping onto his bed as soon as his gun was placed into the drawer, sleep surrounding him warmly. </span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>leave kudos and comment for another chapter :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. if i loved you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>here's what hotch's been up to</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>im ~exhausted~</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>     Aaron woke up alone in his apartment, groaning in pain as he shimmied his body to a seated position. He settled himself for a moment before planting his feet on the ground, getting up to start his day. He did what he did every morning, dialing the marshall assigned to his family in New Jersey. Hayley accepted his apology like she did every day, handing the phone over to their son. Jack would tell him about the work that he had gotten from school for the day and his dad would remind the boy that he was smart. The phone would go back to his mother, who would mutter how she loved him, then hanging up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He flipped the phone off, walking out of his room and into the lonely kitchen. Like every morning, he would see Jack running around with a paper airplane he had made, circling around the table. The smell of baked goods would flood the room, Spencer sat at the stove preparing breakfast with a smile. The two figures would disappear, and Hotch would return to the present moment, the smell of bleach and stale leftovers replacing sugar, settling down with a slice of toast instead of fresh pancakes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     As usual, he would wash off his plate, returning it back to its place in the bare cabinet, and exit the room. His feet would take him to the fax machine where JJ would have updated him with busy work for the day, eventually resting at the table. He would finish in an hour, returning to the quiet kitchen to make himself a bitter cup of coffee. He’d take the drink in his mug and trudge over to his couch, turning on his television with his remote. Aaron would watch a program blankly for hours, barely blinking. He would skip his lunch (he was never hungry after two punctures to his stomach as if it were a balloon), and eat a small dinner, forcing a small amount of food into his system. The sun would start to set, which was when he’d walk over to the bathroom, occasionally showering himself. The ghost of the man would walk over to a lounge chair, fingers tracing a bookshelf lazily. He’d pick a book and read and read some more until his eyes began to droop, his mind buzzing for sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The book would close shut and be returned to its place on the shelf with the others, its owner retreating from the room it was housed in. He’d brush his teeth, change into whatever he could find, and walk over to the alarm system on the wall of the hallway. His feet would carry him to his mattress, resting themselves at the edge. Aaron would call the marshall again, tell Hayley he loved her, and listen to his son rant about his day. He’d thank the man keeping his family safe, wish them a good night and shut his phone off once again, lying down onto the bed. It was always made messily, the man who lay in it never bothering to settle in for the night. He would stare at a small wrinkle of paint on the ceiling, his mind blank for hours. The man’s eyes would eventually close for a few hours only to open again, the monotonous routine setting to continue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was like that every day.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And it was maddening.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     On the thirteenth day of his medical leave, the Unit Chief was exhausted from his routine, waking up in tears. At least something had changed for once. He heard a knock to his door, his body remaining on the bed. He heard three voices whispering from the outside, eventually disappearing with the sound of heels clicking down the hall. Aaron walked through the apartment and to the door, undoing the locks that he had installed. He looked down to see several small baskets, bags, and jars on the marble floor, smiling sadly at the gesture. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He dropped the food onto his dining room table, opening the Tupperware with cake and devouring a slice greedily. He found himself finished with three slices, realizing that this had been the most he had eaten since his attack. It was a small, subtle victory for him. Hotch had decided that that would be the day that the small steps would be taken; he’d return to work in three days and need to be as able as possible. His phone turned on, breaking his routine again. He had called JJ after he had finished his call with his wife and son. She agreed to his request to add the questions from the psych eval that he would be given to her daily faxing to him, making him respond with his thanks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He would try to do what he could to break from his routine the next few days, finally prepared by the day before. His routine was nearly normal considering his circumstance, he began to speak with his coworkers and friends once again, he had eaten more and he had readied himself in full for his psych evaluation. He took his medications regularly, and he had begun to compartmentalize. Unit Chief Agent Hotchner was ready for work again, ready to do the job he had been so passionate about for all these years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He had decided that he was prepared to act like his life was regular again, trying to hex his mind into thinking that Foyet would soon be dead, to not bother him or his ex-wife and their son again. That there would be hope for his scars to heal; mental and physical. He’d feel safe and confident with his actions again, he’d live happily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aaron knew, though, that his world didn’t work that way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He wouldn’t be happy. He couldn’t be happy without Spencer. Spencer, who hadn’t spoken to him since the night of his intrusion. Spencer, who he loved. Spencer, who he had thought he needed. Spencer, who made him smile. Spencer, who somehow made him feel special. Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. It was a mantra in his mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer would be the cut that Foyet had left him that would always bleed. Nothing could stop the gash. The damage had been done. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     There was a night where the team had all accepted the invitation by Agent Emily Prentiss to visit her mother’s estate in Vermont. She was brand new, a fresh face amongst friends, Aaron knew how she wanted to be liked by her peers. Hayley had given him her blessing to go, the entire weekend being peaceful and full of party games and expensive wine. Gideon had left a day early to see his son before the workweek as he had always done since they had reconnected, it kept the older profiler grounded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The home was large and anything but gauche. Emily’s mother was both an heiress and a diplomat, explaining that this was one of the many places that Elizabeth had purchased to entertain friends and make deals with officials. Hotch couldn’t call it a house, it was more of a palace. The exterior was covered with snow, the architecture resembling a home from an old Carey Grant film from the 30s. Each agent had their own large room, elegant yet cozy, he remembered. Prentiss had served them all dinner like she had done the last two nights, Garcia joining in to assist with several desserts. Hotch recalls getting incredibly drunk with the others on expensive wine from the cellars, a hiccup escaping his lips every now and again. He watched Spencer’s lean figure stride outside of two grand-looking doors that led out to a large well-kept garden. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He felt the small hum of classical music that had emitted from speakers around the house, finding himself following the younger man for reasons he still didn’t have the answer to. He was leaning on the railing tiredly, every exhale he took visible, his nose red with frost. “Have you ever thought about what it would be like if you loved someone?” Reid whispered, a small white cloud exiting his mouth with the words. Hotch moved his neck over to see the speaker slowly, watching him gaze up at the bright sky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The drunken chatter from inside had blurred out, he could only focus on the heat from next to him. “How do you mean?” He was swaying from the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, a drunken, fuzzy warmth coming from his gut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I’m not really sure,” He started, head lolling back further up at the bright night sky. “Sometimes when I meet someone, and I think that they’re hot or even cute, I wonder what it’d be like if I loved them. What we’d do, how I’d feel,” he looked down to the garden, leaning closer into the fence. “Let’s go,” he shouted suddenly, smiling. He watched the mess of limbs hop off the terrace, strolling through the snowy ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Wait!” He called out, hopping over the fence and nearly falling clumsily. He jogged over, huffing from the cold. Spencer simply giggled drunkenly, continuing to daintily stride through the pillowy grounds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The roses are blooming,” he whispered, picking off a few pedals, placing them into the man's hands. “It’s pretty,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think that I’ve ever thought about how I’d be if I loved someone, I think that I’ve only wanted one person in my life, Hayley.” He looked back, giggling again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “It’s worth a shot, I’ve done it with JJ before our date, for example. I think that I liked her a lot,” Hotch followed in a daze as Spencer snaked through the paths of the cold garden, the frosty feeling of late February washing away. “I’ve thought about what would happen if I loved you, a lot, you’re pretty, Hotch,” He turned back, beaming. “Do you want to hear it?” he nodded in response carefully. He had really had too much to drink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “At work, I’d probably keep peering over to your office, thinking about you absentmindedly. Most days, we’d go out for lunch and dinner, I would tell you about how great you were. I think that if I loved you, I would let you know whenever you did something that I liked, that made me love you more,” He strolled by his side, picking the petals off of roses subconsciously. “We’d write some of the best papers and books together, because you’re so smart, of course. I saw that couples work the best together,” Aaron walked by his side, not caring as to how wet his socks and bottoms of his jeans were becoming as they walked through the powdery floor. He felt contractions through his heart, not entirely sure why. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d tell you how much I loved you whenever I could, of course. With our jobs, who knows when the last time I see you would be. The stars are really nice,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Yeah, they are,” he replied with stupor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I think that I’d kiss you all the time if I loved you. I like kisses, I don’t think that it’s my favorite form of intimacy, but it’s one, right?” He hummed in response, finding himself staring at the stars now as well. “I’d hold your hand whenever we both had a free one, I think that I’d like holding your hand a lot if I loved you,” Spencer decided, a skip in his intoxicated step. “If I loved you, Hotch, I think that I’d hold you a lot, I think that it would make me feel warm, I think I’d like it if you held me even more,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I’d hold onto you in bed, like a sloth, I’d like to think. I’d wake up and be tangled with your body with mine. If I loved you. The sex would be fantastic, I mean fantastic. It would be good every single time, I’d feel so good and make you feel even better. I never liked the term ‘make love’, it makes me cringe, but I’d like to think that’s what it could be called when it happened. I’d hold you close the whole time, making sure to tell you how much I loved you. It would be salacious, resplendent, loving sex. That’s what it’d be like, if I loved you,” He thought for a moment, nodding in agreement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “You’d make me feel safe, I’d know that you cared, you’d protect me. I’d protect you, too. Nothing could happen to you when you were with me. If I loved you. We’d have a big brownstone in a cozy neighborhood in D.C. I’d have a library, your law books would be there, I’d read them a lot, I think. We would have an office with two big desks. Mine would be messy, it helps me think. Yours would be all neat, like almost every other part of your life. I’d have a big kitchen to cook in, I could teach you how to cook, even. We’d have lots of space, lots of rooms. I’d have a glass chess set in the corner of the study, and we would play all the time after a game of cards. Our house would have a bar, with lots of drinks for entertaining, just like Em has here. You’d have a small home gym in the basement, and I’d come down and tease you while you work out, maybe I’d be eating a donut.” He chuckled at the sentiment. “We’d have a backyard, maybe a dog and a cat, maybe two. If I loved you, we’d love kids, too. A girl and two boys, I think. I’ve always wanted a daughter, you know. I’d teach them everything that I know, you and I would have a movie night every Wednesday with them, yeah, every Wednesday. They’d have good friends, we’d keep them safe from the world. You can teach them sports and everything you know, you’re so smart, really. I’d pamper the girl, I’d love our boys. They’d be so happy with us. I think that if they weren’t, we would work hard to make it better. You and I would take such good care of our kids, I’d want kids with you, if I loved you,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “And if I loved you, we’d go out every Saturday, case or no case. It would be nice, I think that dates are a good way to show someone you love them. I’d tell you all my secrets, and I’d love it if you told me yours. If I loved you, words wouldn’t be easy for me, ever. I would let my guard down if, I loved you. I’d actually have emotion, be passionate with you. I think that you could do the same, I could be good with you. You could be good with me, if I loved you,” He stopped, spinning around on his heel. “That’s all I have. Have you given it some thought? What you would do if you loved someone?” The feeling of warmth had completely overwhelmed Aaron by now, deducing that it was no longer just the alcohol. “You didn’t have to, you’re fine,” he whispered after a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “You know, about 71% of the Earth is covered with water, but just this small chunk of the sky that we can see makes it seem so small. It makes me feel so small, so insignificant,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But that isn’t true, Reid,” he whispered sympathetically. He hummed in response, quickly continuing to walk around the grounds of the winter garden. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can smell them, the blossoms. The wind’s bringing them down,” Reid announced eventually, breaking the calm silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I know what would happen if I loved you,” the disclosure was irrelevant, but he had just blurted it out, anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re different, Spencer. I’m not sure what it is, but I like it about you,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” he muttered, smiling anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “If I loved you,” Hotch mused, the pace in his step quickening. “I would tell you every day, too. You’d deserve to know how much I loved you, to be validated. I think I’d tell you how smart you were, and how much it made me love you. I would listen to what you had to say about any topic in the universe, musing on about whatever you knew. I’d let you teach me how to cook, I’d probably slip my hands into yours from behind while you were baking. I think that I’d kiss you a lot, if I loved you. I like kisses, too.” a rational part of his brain knew he was in dangerous territory, but the beams of sunlight from his core had overwhelmed reason. “I’d buy you that brownstone, I think that you and I would talk a lot about our secrets, probably in the dark and late at night. If I loved you, I’d stay awake for a bit once I knew you had fallen asleep, sit there and watch you breathing. I think that the sex would be better than fantastic, voluptuous, sweet, and frequent. I’d hold you just you liked, and I’d make sure to hold your hand whenever you asked. We would go into work together, I think that we would stop for breakfast at a local coffee shop. If I loved you, I would fill our library with all of your favorite books, our house would be near a bookstore or library, and I’d take you there every Monday morning. If I loved you, we would paint our kids’ bedrooms together; you’d pick the color. I would try to keep them happy, be kind to them. I’d let our kids be who they wanted, let them do what felt right to them. If I loved you, you would know everything about me. I would know everything about you. I would know how much you liked an author, how afraid you were of the dark, what makes you tick, what makes you smile. If I loved you, I’d respect your privacy and know how you respected mine. I’d live just to wake up next to you every morning, to be a part of the small things you’d do every day. I haven’t had as much time to think about it as you have, but, there you go,” Hotch finished, the two of them stopping at a frozen fountain by the side of the home. Reid looked up, grinning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See? It’s nice to think about it,” he didn’t respond, instead, staring down at the scattered blossoms on the floor, his hands shoved into his pockets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “You’re right about the blossoms coming down, just in time, too,” He heard steps crunching through the snow, looking up to see the young profiler staring at him in a tipsy gaze. He quickly hurled himself over into Aaron’s arms, causing him to stumble back, catching him with a strong grip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Spencer held him tightly, Aaron consciously deciding that his grip on him was tighter. He took in the smell of the figure, sweet with traces of old books and wine. It was perfectly Reid. He stood there in his arms for a while, thinking about the conversation that had just transpired. If he had loved him, if he had loved Spencer- what the two would do. Hotch had deduced that the life the two had just drunkenly conjured was sinfully appealing. Aaron had always wanted a daughter, probably more than the other man could ever possibly imagine. He, however, had Jack, his son who his wife had borne for him. They had a large house in a peaceful neighborhood, and it was his life. He loved Haley, he had been madly in love with her for years, he was sure. He was more than sure that he couldn’t possibly love the boy he had held and still stay in love with his wife, if he loved him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>If he loved him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Spencer pulled away first, yawning like a small kitten. He melted at the sight, watching him lazily begin to point out constellations. It was an hour later when the young profiler was on the verge of drunken exhaustion, quietly asking for Hotch to take him inside. He sighed, inching close to him. Reid wrapped his arms around the man’s neck, feeling the weight of his feet on the floor quickly alleviate when one arm had been placed behind his knees and the other around his small waist, yawning again as he was swept up from the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You saved my life, I never got to thank you for that,” He whispered, eyes glinting from the glow of the stars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dowd, thanks to you ‘kicking the snot out of me,’ as you put it so kindly, we’re both still here,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I didn’t save your life, Reid. If anything, you saved mine.” He chuckled, closing the gate behind him. He looked up from the boy he was carrying to see that he had interrupted the group sitting in the room who had been watching an old film. He glared at Prentiss warningly when she laughed, causing her to immediately halt and raise her hands in defeat. He grunted once he finished carrying Spencer up the three flights of stairs to his room, a small pain arising in his shoulder blade. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Elle, I miss her.” He muttered randomly after Hotch had closed the bedroom door behind them with his leg, whimpering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “She’s been gone two weeks, so the wound’s still fresh. It’ll be fine,” he promised, placing him down onto the warm mattress. “Get some sleep, you’re still a bit drunk and we have to be back at work tomorrow. Don’t make me write you up,” he added, trying to make Spencer smile. He groaned in response, settling into the covers. Hotch was just about to close the door when a voice stopped him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Hotch?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Reid?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Thank you for coming along with me. It’s always nice to have a friend to be drunk with,” for some reason, the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend </span>
  </em>
  <span>had sat uneasily with Aaron. He knew it shouldn’t, as that was all the night had been, drunken conversation with a friend. He grunted softly, shutting the door. He shuffled down the steps and the dim hall, walking into his own room. He had denied it for most of the night but finally came to a small acceptance as he lay awake in the sheets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     From now on, Aaron wouldn’t be thinking about what could be </span>
  <em>
    <span>if</span>
  </em>
  <span> he loved Spencer, he would be thinking about what might have been </span>
  <em>
    <span>if </span>
  </em>
  <span>he didn’t still love his wife. He identified the warm feeling that had been dimming slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose in disbelief. Somehow or another, a wasted exchange had led to Aaron Hotchner falling in love with Spencer Reid. “Shit,” he mumbled sleepily, trapping his eyes shut, praying that he would forget in the morning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     But he didn’t forget. Four years later and he still couldn’t forget. Aaron thought about that night religiously, now more than ever. A weight of heavy reality had set onto him, crushing his chest. He would never see that reality for he and Spencer, and Foyet had just hammered the final nail into the coffin for them. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was over.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>leave some kudos and pls comment for more &lt;3 ur comments make me so happy</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. ultimatum</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>short chapter, a messy fight as told by the team. takes place at the beginning of season 3 when strauss offers hotch a position for white collar and haley wants him to take it</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>     Derek watched from the hall as Spencer nearly teleported over to the Unit Chief’s office, sprinting faster than he had ever seen before. He exchanged a glance with JJ, dropping his bag by the elevator. He opened the large glass door to the BAU, noticing the rest of the team dropping what they were doing at the sound of the door slamming violently, the volume piercing. Morgan’s jaw dropped at the act of sheer strength and anger, dumbfounded at the root of his friend’s rage. The sound of Reid screeching was muffled from behind the walls of the office, causing JJ to flinch nonetheless. “What the hell is that?” Anderson whispered, dropping the case file onto his desk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “I’m not really sure. Hotch just told me he was resigning. Something about getting a chance of being with Haley and Jack more in WCC. I'm as in the dark as everyone else,” they were late for the plane already, but nobody seemed to care. They were all frozen in place, eyes trained on the scene that had unfolded from behind the blinds of the office window. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Let’s just wait for him to finish, I guess,” JJ whispered, in awe. Spencer looked completely feral, flailing his hands violently. His face was tainted red, his volume only increasing after every muffled sentence. Aaron stood there, frozen. His expression was apologetic, unreadable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>        “What the fuck have you done?” Spencer shrieked, slamming the door behind him so hard that whatever photos were left on the shelves fell. Aaron looked up at him like a deer in headlights. “Gideon left a little over a month ago, ghosting me just like my dad! He was gone with a letter, a single piece of fucking paper! Emily is nowhere to be seen, following in Elle’s footsteps. Then, Strauss tells us all that she’s in charge, that you were leaving the BAU. Are you serious, Aaron?” He shouted, slamming a fist onto the mahogany desk, making the other man recoil. He opened his mouth to reply, to explain himself, but Spencer wouldn’t hear any of it. “Don’t you dare, don’t you dare, you son of a bitch! Do you have any idea how hard it is already? The only relationship we could ever have is professional, and you go and take that away? I have to live with the fact that every day, the man I’m in love with has to go home to his wife and his son instead of coming home with me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Spencer-“ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “Shut up!” He screeched, loud enough for it to be heard from the bullpen. Morgan twitched at the boldness, shocked that Aaron didn’t slap him across the face in response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “I wish I had never gone back here with you, I should’ve gone home with Tom. I had so many chances to stay away from you, shit! I should’ve gone on that second date with JJ like Gideon had suggested, she’s sweet, she’s not like you! She’s smart and blonde and </span>
  <em>
    <span>there</span>
  </em>
  <span>, God. I should’ve kept talking to Lila! That was another chance for me. You should’ve never asked to ‘tutor me’ for my qualification, don’t think I didn’t know what you wanted out of that, I’m not an idiot, you know. Dowd should’ve killed you! He should’ve killed me! Problem solved, right? Hankel should’ve never resuscitated me, I’d be dead! I should be dead. If he never gave me CPR, I would’ve never chosen you, I would’ve never fallen in love with you. I should’ve shot up until my heart stopped, died like a pathetic addict. I should’ve never joined the bureau in the first place, God.  But, go ahead- leave your team. Leave me. Break your word, see if I care. Because, the thing is, Hotch- I nearly fell apart coming here, but I’m not going to cry in front of you, I’d rather die. I thought of begging you to stay, beg you to run away with me and leave Haley. I know you won’t, you love her too much. Look me in the eyes and tell me you want her, Aaron,” he boomed, face flushed with anger, hair swept into his face. A tear stray down his cheek at the picture Spencer had painted, anger rising in his own chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “Keep my wife out of this! You aren’t her, Spencer. You’ll never be her. You aren’t nearly as good enough as her. And you know what? Deep down, you know it,” his voice struck louder than thunder, moving over to shove him in frustration. Garcia flinched as she saw Spencer hit the wall, books falling down onto his head. “Spencer, I’m so sorry,” he recoiled at his action, voice gentle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “He shoved him, he shoved him!” JJ noted, a hand over her mouth. Spencer didn’t meet his eye, instead laughing darkly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>       “It’s too late for sorry.” He whispered, his voice finally softer. “Just remember, this was what you wanted. And if I were you, I’d watch out about telling the kid you slept with to keep quiet to my wife. You ruined me by taking away the only thing that makes me happy, and I could just as easily do the same to you,” the silence of the bullpen was interrupted by the shifting of the office door, everyone looking up carefully. Spencer emerged from the other end, face red with anger and mouth curled into a frown. “Tell Haley I said thank you,” he said before slamming the door behind him. He ran down the stairs, hands shoved into his pockets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “Pretty boy, you okay?” Morgan reaches out for his arm, causing Reid to violently swat it away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Fuck off, Derek!” He passed his team and ran out the door quickly before anyone had the chance to even think. He kept his head down on the way to the airstrip, eventually returning back to a fragment of himself when they sat on the jet, shooting lasers at Strauss with his eyes upon her boarding. The team had simply exchanged a look, knowing that trying to get anything out of Reid would prove to be futile. A thought loomed in the back of JJ’s mind that he’d begin using again from the conflict, but that was a concern to have with him another day. They had a case, like it or not. At the end of the day, they were all replaceable. There’d always be a fresh face at the academy to take their job, a younger, perkier girl to take their husbands, a handsome man to take their wives. It was just the stuff of their lives with the jobs they had, and all of it was shit.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>comment for more :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. accidents happen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>season 4 ep 3 , minimal loss. prentiss is a fucking lesbian and reid is a disaster bisexual , we know .</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i have another chapter written out and im editing it now , this is obviously another flashback/dream . im going to continue the story back from after foyet's attack soon , im just trying to lay down a bit of a foundation here .</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“It’s just for two days, you’ll live, Hotch,” Spencer said between kisses. They sat lazily in Hotch’s bed, the bright lights of daylight shining through the blinds. He ignored the statement, simply pulling Reid’s lips closer to his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure if I can bear it,” he pouts, sarcasm in his tone. “I trust you and Emily to do well, though. I’ll have Garcia see if she can find anything else on Cyrus that the two of you can use if anything happens,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which it won’t” He retorted, shifting up in the bedsheets and planting his feet onto the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With your luck, it just might,” Hotch snorted, leaping up out of his bed soon after his lover had. “I just feel nervous about anyone on the team, especially you, going undercover in any way. Something bad can always happen,” He grabbed onto his bicep swiftly at this, looking up at him intently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look at me,” Spencer whispered, eyes glinting. “Emily’s my best friend. She’s smart, probably smarter than I am with suspects. The two of us will be fine, and I promise that nothing bad is going to come to either of us, it’s okay.” Hotch kissed him after letting out a small sigh, deep and indulgently. “And you can kill me yourself if I’m wrong,” he said, lips still planted onto his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll take you up on that offer,” he muttered with a smile, pulling away to study his face with a warm gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew you would. Let’s shower for a bit, then Jack and I can go and make pancakes,” Spencer invited, his hand intertwining with his. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One minute he and Emily were trying their best to convince a girl born into the cult whose roof they were under, Jessica, to realize the severity of the situation she was in, the next, a dozen men had stormed the room with semi-automatics. Spencer instinctively reached for his belt for a moment only to realize that he and Em had walked into the church unarmed. He moved his hands over in a confused daze as a man with a rifle patted him down aggressively, his thoughts tripping over each other. He thought that their covers were somehow blown, that Cyrus had found that they were under the employment of the FBI. He wasn’t at all expecting him to ask Emily about a raid. He looked out the window, confused, only to whip his head back at the returning sound of the leader’s voice. For a moment, he had prayed that he would let them both go and let whoever had organized the hunt do their jobs. All hope dissolved when a barrel of a large gun was placed in the small of his spine, forcing him and his partner down a hallway that led to a worn door. They watched one of the armed men unlock a hatch in the room, screaming at them all to rush down and stay silent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prentiss kept whispering harshly at him in a slight panic, hissing unintentionally. Reid collected his thoughts and started to place them in boxes in a messy attempt to compartmentalize. The two of them were CPS workers who had walked into the church to ask a girl a couple of questions, they had nothing to worry about. The sounds of automatic fire and muffled shouts from above them made his fingers tremble, nearly grabbing onto Emily’s hand for comfort. “Where’d all these guns come from?” She whispered, walking further into the room they were in, Spencer following close in toe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, Garcia checked with the State Police,” they turned to watch the scene unfold, silently thinking about the best exit strategy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is ridiculous,” the worker hissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, just calm down,” Prentiss retorted, drawing closer to Reid. They stood hovering in the same position, flinching at the sudden increase of pace in firing from the ceiling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They don’t know, as long as they don’t know, it’s okay,” he managed in an attempt to reassure himself more than the woman next to him. He and Jack had a promise to go to the zoo with Aaron on Friday, and he fully intended to keep it, come hell or high water. She didn’t meet his gaze, glaring warningly at the woman they had arrived with instead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the State Police. I’m an officer of the state,” </span>
  <em>
    <span>And we’re federal agents who have to make it out of here alive. Your ‘state’ should’ve said something to Garcia or Hotch about a fucking raid before we arrived unarmed, sit down. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Before he could snap at the woman, Emily interjected with aggravation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, there’s nothing we can do right now,” Nancy then proceeded to the end of the hall, running over to talk to the combatants despite Emily’s desperate protests. In all honesty, neither of them wanted to have to add something more to their incident reports. Spencer stood by her side the entire time, the darker part of his mind reminding him that the situation could only end horribly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have to call Hotch,” he decided, reaching for his phone, only to find that it was missing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They took our phones away, and even if we had one, they’d shoot you before you dialed his number.” She started, whipping her face to meet him at the deflated sound he had made. “We should get out of here in one piece, the state has a lot of manpower, they’ll get them,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is a religious cult, Em. Those men, they have nothing to lose,” the silence and focus were interrupted when the sound of the hatch opening and closing echoed from above. Cyrus returned with two men, Ms. Lunde nowhere to be seen. Prentiss snapped at the implication of her death, pleading to stop the shooting. Spencer stood behind her, staring at him, baffled. He was gone in a moment, the firing ceasing minutes later. He sighed in relief, the hairs standing at his back. It was announced that they were retreating to the men in the cellar, making him realize the severity. The state would call homeland security, homeland security would call the CIA. The CIA would call the FBI. The liaison would call Strauss, and she would call for Hotch. Either way, a heavily armed religious cult had just taken them and all of its members hostage, somehow managing to get LEOs to stop firing and drawback. It had meant that every single person in the justice department would be on this, the media soon after the moment it got out that the two of them were with the BAU. “Not for long,” Spencer retorted quietly, finally deciding to place a deadly grip onto Emily’s hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“JJ, that’s not the ranch where Prentiss and Reid-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re still inside,” she breathed shakily, utterly terrified.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hotch!” Morgan boomed with utter panic. They watched him quickly slam the phone onto the receiver, face laced with confusion. Rossi strolled out of his office in confusion, leaning onto the railing. “The TV. Prentiss and Reid,” he shouted, motioning to the monitor. His mind instantly fell to the floor, furrowing his brows. The phones started ringing, piercing deep into his head, his ears starting to buzz. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right, that means we’re the lead with hostage rescue and support. Let’s go,” a panicked tone replaced his cool one, sprinting over to the elevator. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to slam his fists against the desk on the jet in aggravation when JJ had</span>
</p><p>
  <span>mentioned that Wells could’ve possibly cost Spencer his life, all because of fucking politics. He took notes rapidly, his brain racing at a thousand miles a minute. He was glad for one thing- the second he had his hands on Spencer again, he’d kill him himself. Aaron knew that he’d make it out of there alive because he was sure he’d stab him the moment he saw him again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spencer and Emily were taken to a room down the hall, he was sat in a chair fumbling with his hands while she stood pacing. There were two armed guards in the room, and he was going to lose his brain if he couldn’t at least try to formulate a plan. He remembered from a previous case that Prentiss was fluent in Russian, quickly speaking to her. “Hotch and Morgan will have my head on a platter if anything happens to either of us, so what can we do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing we can do. And they’ll shoot us if we keep talking like this,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, I can’t take it anymore,” he finished, gazing at his shoes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be, I should’ve brought my work phone,” she reassured. They looked up at the door after a moment to see Nancy’s body being dragged away by a man, Benjamin Cyrus entering their line of view soon after. They watched Cyrus follow his ‘wife’ who held tightly onto a younger girl into another room. All they could do was lie in wait, lie just like roadkill for the vultures. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, the three child service workers,” Rossi began, the wind breezing through the tent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One of them is dead. It wasn’t us,” Aaron shut his eyes tightly, staring down at the ground. There was nearly a 70% chance that either one of his dearest friends was dead, or his lover, his best friend who he had sworn to protect. He nearly sobbed, getting a strong grip on the table behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need a name to inform the family,” Rossi sighed, looking up at his friend sympathetically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Her name was Nancy Lunde,” Morgan sighed loudly in relief and Rossi relaxed at that, but Hotch had nearly melted in relief. Hotch slept for a mere three at the station that night, contemplating a safe return for his two agents. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How funny would it be, dying while undercover?” Prentiss muttered, voice tired. She had known the fear of it, yet Reid was new to the whole thing in contrast. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not very,” he joked, tossing in the seat he had tried to become comfortable in. It was morning, he was hungry and hadn’t slept the entire night. The two had muttered their profiles and escape plans in Russian, arguing with teasing tones the whole time there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, the two were led to the hall to pray and congregate, sitting close to each other in the seats. The door was swung open by Cyrus after a moment, causing the two of them to shoot their heads back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that Rossi?” She said in disbelief, this time her language of choice being Ancient Greek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think so,” he said, studying the figure that had just dropped down a box of something. “Stay calm, conceal,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The children,” Cyrus started, insisting he walks down the pews with him. “And, our guests,” they tried their best to remain stoic, frankly relieved to see Rossi again. They watched the conversation unfold while staying deathly silent. “Trust is earned,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is,” Rossi replied, making quick eye contact with Reid. They walked to the back of the room once Dave left, confident in their safe return. They studied the mother with her daughter intently, profiling in English now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look at how she comes between Cyrus and her daughter. She’s inserted herself between them,” they watched in silence as the cult drinks their wine, Prentiss’ mouth rounding when he admits that they drank poison. Spencer looks at her blankly, his eyes telling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hotch and Derek had gone absolutely feral at the confession, his hand placed onto the ear of the headphone intently. “People are already dying,” he snapped, rubbing his temple. He remembered what Spencer had told him earlier, sighing. He and Emily were smart, smart enough to not take a cup of wine from a cult leader, at the very least. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do we do?” She whispered, staring at the scene before her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing,” Reid remarked, looking at Cyrus quizzically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have to do something, these people just took poison,” he calmly explained the leader’s bluff, begging to any deity that he had ever read about that he’d be right. Across town, Aaron let out a sigh of relief that there wasn’t a chance that either agent would’ve taken the wine and died, making his way over to the response tents with Dave quickly. He and his entire team had watched the news report that JJ had played for them all, cursing out the entire Wyoming government. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if they weren’t in any deep shit with them before, now they are,” Rossi said, slamming the laptop shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cyrus returned into their cell with men in tow, a blank expression plastered across his face. “Which one of you is it?” he sighed, walking to the back of the room. Spencer’s head started to buzz, something that’d happen when he was nervous. He thought for a moment, the exhausting part of his mind laughing at the question. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gay, or an FBI agent? Because we’re pretty much both. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Which one of you is the FBI agent?” he sighs, whipping out a revolver. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?” Reid asked, his eyes drawing over to Emily’s in a panic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God will forgive me for what I must do,” he said, cocking his gun after a short, terrifying silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he panicked, stumbling over his words. He was never a good hostage, he thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One of you does, who is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me. It’s me,” Prentiss exhales, causing him to glare at her with anger. He blinked, softening when he returned the gun to his belt. He almost relaxed but Cyrus’ hand was already gripping onto her hair violently, dragging her across the floor. Reid was prepared to get up and lunge for him, the sound of a semi stopping him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reid took Benjamin’s invitation to stick around for a brief while, watching him remove shards of glass from his knuckles. He knows that it should’ve been him, he knows that he could’ve said something. His mind was cloudy and he couldn’t think, all he could think about was his panic. “Did you know she was FBI?” Spencer shifted at this, hugging his waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nancy told me the woman was a child abuse interview expert from Denver. In the four years I’ve worked with her, Nancy never lied to me before,” he said, hoping that Rossi planted a wire onto Cyrus earlier. He started raving about the law and how it separated him from minors, which really was the whole reason they were there in the first place. “On the next call, you should test them,” he suggested, deciding on the right words to say. Christopher argued with him when he recommended asking Rossi for Emily’s identity, ultimately winning Cyrus over and getting him to release a little girl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had ushered everyone into the pews of the chapel, still on the phone with Rossi. He noticed a figure tiredly entering the room after a moment, recognizing Prentiss’ tattered face. Reid’s feet gravitated towards her, nearly crying at the sight. A thrashing thought in his mind had screamed at him, it should’ve been him, not her. “He looks pissed,” she murmured about Cyrus, her head whipping up after the feeling of his eyes on the side of her head. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” she promised, returning to the scene in front of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry,” it was genuine and full of regret, his ears buzzing. He promised that he’d notify the team about the group's release and advise them of time to rush the church once again. He did it with meticulous subtlety, just as he’d done with Hankel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer looked down at the takeout containers, instant relief washing over him when he recognized his lover’s handwriting. His brows furrowed when he read it, 3 am. “I think I’d prefer to stay. Somebody needs to tell your story,” he smiled, relieved that the time was nearing. He watched Benjamin fiddle with a box of pipes, his eyes zeroing in on the sight. He returned to the room after taking a walk around the church, noticing the pipes had turned into a bomb. Reid watched him shoot rounds into the sky, his breath speeding up at the comment he made about taking agents down with the bomb. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had whispered scripture calmly to Cole in a messy attempt to make it out of the room, only to be met with a barrel to his chest. Cyrus was too familiar to Charles, Reid nearly snapping at him. The handle dug into his stomach twice, causing him to fall to the floor in pain. The gun was pointed to his head in a moment, then half a dozen clean shots flooded the room. He looked up to see SWAT agents led by Morgan, sighing in relief. “You alright, kid?” he asked, Reid quickly getting up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. Where’s Emily?” he panicked, afraid that the bomb had already been triggered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We got her out of here,” he said, noticing a girl walk into the room. Spencer watched as Jessica looked down at Cyrus, her eyes twitching dangerously. She grabbed the detonator on the floor, not wasting any time. He screamed, grabbing onto Derek’s arm before sprinting out the door. The sound of the blast was horrific, the two men were blown into the ground from the force.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hotch watched the flash of light, clenching his fists in anguish. “Shit,” he hissed, frozen with fear. He saw Emily emerge from the crowd, calling out for Spencer and Derek. He inched closer to her, watching the wreckage carefully. Two figures finally emerged, hacking up a storm and stumbling from the heat. “We’re ok,” Morgan promised, guiding his friend out absentmindedly. He sighed at the sight, his brows furrowing. He’d have the chance to kill him, now, at least. Prentiss walked over to him, embracing him tightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reid grabbed onto his friend before following the others away from the blast site. He jogged over to Hotch’s side, striding over to the paramedics to get checked. “I’m dead, aren’t I?” he joked in an attempt to get Aaron to smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re lucky I love you,” was all he said, expression blank. “We can talk when we get back to Quantico, all that matters is you were safe in the end,” he decided, smiling at him sympathetically. He strode off to meet with a SWAT captain, glancing over to Spencer occasionally. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spencer sat on the jet, listening to Prentiss intently. “What Cyrus did to me is not your fault. It was my decision, and I would do it again” her tone was stern and kind, a wave of guilt flushing over his chest. “Do you hear me?” He nodded in response, a ghost of a smile on his face. “Thank you,” she said, squeezing onto his hand. She smiled, leaning back into the seat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to be with JJ and Garcia watching a movie tonight, but I think you should come over for dinner sometime this week,” she decided, a warm smile on her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d like that,” he grinned, focusing on his book once again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hotch dropped Spencer’s satchel down onto the floor as well as his own bag, locking the door shut behind them. It was too early for either man to still be awake, especially Reid, considering he hadn’t slept for three days. He shuffled into the master bedroom, changing in comfortable silence. Spencer put on an old Georgetown Law shirt and sweatpants that were two sizes too big, crawling into the bed with his suitor following. Aaron shifted, holding him as close as possible with a hum. “I’m sorry,” Reid eventually said, earning a sigh from his superior.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should’ve gone instead. Better yet, the attorney general could’ve said something about the raid in the first place. Nothing to be sorry for,” he whispered, looking down onto him and kissing his temple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you. You understood again,” he pulled away slightly to look at his features,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>tears threatening his sight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What else could you have possibly expected from me?” he croaked weakly before molding his lips greedily onto his. Spencer wheezed, digging his fingernails into his back. He quivered, tiredly groaning when Hotch started to place kisses down the small of his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, right there,” he twitched, back arching into the mattress. “My stomach still hurts a bit, just watch out, oh,” his shirt flew off, chest flushed deeply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You never cease to amaze me,” he whispered. “Let me know if it starts to hurt, we can stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will,” he thrashed in the bed, messily rocking his hips forward. “Now go ahead and make it up to me” Aaron looked at him giddily, warmth and a powerful whet in his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Consider it done,”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>please please please kudos and comment for more &lt;3 i love everyone's feedback</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. trophy wife</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this whole story is a dumpster fire but ik a few of you like it and i do too and that's all that matters ig lmao</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>     “Haley asked me to invite you all to dinner tomorrow night, I’m sure that she won’t take no for an answer,” Hotch had said on their returning flight from Chicago. They were all utterly exhausted, Morgan was arrested and the team was sent in to clear his name, eventually putting away the man who had tortured the agent throughout his childhood. Spencer looked up from the hand he was to deal with his friend, pausing. “She’s already hired a sitter for Jack,” he dealt the hand after the comment, smirking. Derek laughed at his loss, lolling his neck back into the sear behind him in an act of defeat.</span>
</p><p><span>     “I’ll be there, I’ve been dying to meet her,” Prentiss decided, enthusiasm in her voice. The rest of the team was aware of the fights their supervisor would have with his wife at times over his job, she’d sometimes show up at his office to argue, interrupting everyone’s focus on the field reports in front of them. Haley was a good wife, and Aaron loved her. Everyone on the team had an unspoken agreement about that, but they had also quietly agreed that she would be the downfall of his career; one day. They deemed her to have good intentions, of course, just not for their own family in Quantico. JJ was the next to agree, Gideon soon after. </span><span><br/></span> <span>“Why not,” the agent in front of him had said, picking up 3 new cards from the pile across the table. “Reid?”</span></p><p>
  <span>“I’m looking forward to it,” he smiled, allowing the regular conversation to finally continue on the aircraft. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>     Haley and Aaron repeated the same conversation for years. She’d have it with him religiously his senior year of high school, then again during his years at Georgetown Law, the nature of her words deepening once he had finally landed a position as a respected federal prosecutor. The two shared a gauche dream- a large house to entertain, designer clothes, children and a dog behind a white picket fence, expensive wine, new money, and a powerful job for Aaron, the modern Kennedy's. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He’d be a senator most of his life, making friends in powerful places, accumulating wealth. The two of them were on the road to achieving that dream. He had worked in a dingy apartment in Seattle, the pay was excellent and he was able to work as a chief for a local FBI unit in addition to his law career. The moment he had enough money saved, he paid for a large, white house in full, right by D.C. He was rising up in rank and his work had become more renowned, he was doing the good he had always dreamed of. One day, something had changed in Aaron’s passion for his work. He had told Haley that he had been offered a part-time job with SWAT for the Washington PD, begging her to let him take it. She had given him her blessing with a sigh of defeat, something she would release every time he had got his call to a location. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     He dropped his law career entirely when Jason Gideon and his team had approached him, admiring his work in law enforcement and his skills with criminal psychology. Aaron had come home at an ungodly hour that night, beaming to his wife that he was offered a position to be one of the world’s most elite profilers. “What’s that?” she had muttered tiredly, shifting in their bed to meet his eyes. Haley hoped that it was something high up in the bureau, if he could get up to the top of the justice department, he might feel inspired to run for Congress one day. He explained that the profilers of the behavioral analysis unit interviewed and apprehended criminals all across the country, figuring out how to catch them using methods that local LEOs were incapable of. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     They had nearly everything besides children up until that night, Haley would host dinner parties in an expensive evening gown, going out to a lavish restaurant every week with Aaron’s friends from the prosecutor's office, seeing him come home no later than the sun had set, greeting him in bed for sex every night, it was always the same. She had liked her life with her husband to be the same, she didn’t welcome change. Haley liked to be the wife at home, chatting with friends, reading, working out, one day even taking care of their children. That was the promise that they had made with their wedding vows, that was the promise they had made sitting in the grass late at night in Centennial Park at 17. That was the one promise that she’d refuse to let him break.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     She shut her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose for a moment in silence. She opened them again, staring up at the dark ceiling above her. Haley’s eyes met Aaron after a moment, and her heart broke to see how happy the opportunity had made him. She thought for a moment, the promise would only be broken for a small while, just until he had ascended to the top once again. Aaron heard her sigh, deep and long, before smiling weakly. “Okay, if it makes you happy,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Thank you, I love you,” he said warmly, pressing a slow kiss to her lips. “Remember the rest of the dream we have, I have to hold you up to it if you plan on taking that job,” he kicked his shoes off, rolling on top of her with a soft grunt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Why not start now, then?” he chuckled, connecting his rough lips to her shaped ones once again. They would keep their promises, shape their dreams, and it would be fine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Four years later and there she was, standing in front of Aaron’s second family, cradling onto his own in his arms. They had tried time and time again, finally succeeding nine months before. Aaron kept his feet on the grounds of their dream, now a unit chief, musing about his team every night with a sparkle in his eyes. Just as she had started her third trimester, Jason Gideon returned with the young Spencer Reid, who Hotch couldn’t shut up about. He went on and on about his achievements, his demeanor, Haley giggling at the envious comments that he dropped into conversation every so often. Now here she was, standing before him, accompanied by Agent Jareau, the team press liaison, and Penelope Garcia, the joker and technical analyst. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s so gorgeous,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Thank you,” she gushed, relieved that she had the opportunity to be standing with Aaron in the office. It certainly wasn’t Capitol Hill, but the atmosphere had been extremely similar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “If you find baldness and wrinkles attractive,” the kid had said, hands in pockets. Haley smiled at the gesture, playfully hitting her husband on the back as he laughed. She saw Agent Morgan approach the group, smiling politely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you want one of these?” Penelope asked with a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Mhm, I’ll stick to practicing,” they laughed at the comment, her eyes following the man as he left abruptly, likely meaning there was an issue with her presence or a case, either possibility unsettling her. A pretty brunette walked up to the group holding several files, her lipstick dark and figure a bit slimmer than Haley’s own, face utterly stoic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Congratulations,” she nodded courteously, both parents quickly responding to the gesture with their thanks. The mother deduced that Derek’s departure was because of a case they had just received, deeming then the time to return home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “She’s amazing. I’m a little terrified,” Haley laughed, watching the unidentifiable expression on Dr. Reid’s face as he kept an absentminded gaze on her husband, shaking it off and turning to her son. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Well, uh, we should get going,” she said, taking Jack from his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Pleasure seeing you, Mrs. Hotchner,” Spencer said, smiling curtly. They had waved her goodbye, and she had left via the elevator behind her, a thought in the back of her mind regarding the youngest agent. He was incredibly intelligent, he was kind, but there was something about him that unsettled her to the core. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Morgan and Garcia were already sitting at the couch in the large living room, joking around with Aaron when a knock came at the door. Haley shifted around the kitchen, making her way to the front door. Her husband had already opened it, wrapping the guest in a hug. “Hi, Mrs. Hotchner. Thank you for hosting me, I brought a bottle of wine. Prentiss said that it’s a good idea to do that, she’s parking now,” he rambled, extending the bag with the bottle and his hand. She accepted it with a sweet smile, insisting he wait with Penelope and Derek in the other room. Just as he said she would, Emily was at the door a few minutes later, JJ following behind. Gideon was last, yet still punctual, apologizing for his delay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     They all sat under the warm light of the Virginian entertaining space, subtly conveying the ideas of comfort and luxury that Spencer had expected Aaron and his wife to have. Penelope had insisted on seeing photos of Jack, albums being passed around and admired as if it were a sort of assembly line. Haley had returned from the kitchen after the dozenth time of her walking in and out of it, declaring that part of the meal was ready and plated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     The sound of silverware cutting into china and the clattering of wine glasses broke the ambiance of the room. Stories and jokes were thrown around, generally questions aimed towards Emily by Haley. Her physique was similar to Elle’s, her hair dark, and her expression enticing. She remembers random details about her that her husband had whispered to her some nights when asked about his day or coworkers, questioning her politely. The more playful she had acted around the team, the lighter the atmosphere had become, the third round of wine pouring into the crystal glasses of course helping out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     Jason was flailing his arms around, telling Haley the story of their first case together as an assembled team. “Spence did this remarkable thing by reading the letters, I think we’d be out of a job without him,” JJ joked, breaking the bread on her plate. Emily pushed her arm playfully, praising the doctor’s intellect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “He really does have a beautiful mind,” her husband blurted with a smile, earning a small blush from the other man. Nobody but Haley noticed the emotion in his voice nor the reaction, simply nodding in agreement and moving on. A feeling rose in her chest, identifying it as utter rage and jealousy. She thought quickly, meticulously spilling her glass of wine on her lap, stumbling on her words apologetically. “Everything alright, dear?” he asked, patting down the napkin onto his lap and passing it over to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I’ll go and change. Thank you though, love. Excuse me,” she smiled brightly, swaying her hips intently as she walked up the stairs. Emily exchanged a look with Garcia, cocking her eyebrows. Spencer felt utterly embarrassed, crumbling into the chair. Aaron was unbothered, instead of saying something to his colleague about a new bird exhibit at the Smithsonian. She descended the stairs after a moment in a low cut gown and a bright smile, she didn’t have to be a genius profiler to identify a look of lust in a man’s eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>      Haley hovered over her chair for a moment, her hair let down in lovely blonde curls, thinking. After a case in Chicago, she wondered if her husband had been cheating on her, his hours in the office extending by nearly half as much as they used to be. Never in a million years would she had thought it to be with a man, let alone </span>
  <em>
    <span>Spencer fucking Reid. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He thought that if anyone, it would’ve been JJ or Elle, both of them displaying similar features to her, not to mention the latter, the older of the two, was only six years her junior. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>      Spencer was clumsy, he ran his mouth off about anything, his figure utterly unattractive. She had thought him to have the sex appeal of a cockroach crushed on a bug swatter, there was nothing sexy about him. At that moment she decided that if she were to lose her husband to anyone in the world, it would be a Marilyn, blonde, pretty, perky, and young. She’d refuse to think of him in bed with anyone but, especially him, it was mortifying. “Dr. Reid, would you mind helping me check on the casserole? I think that a doctorate in chemistry makes you good in the kitchen,” her tone was innocent and perky, smiling when his chair had shifted back. They walked down the hall into the room, the boy following her like a puppy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What can I do?” he whispered, smiling awkwardly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “You can tell me if you’re sleeping with Aaron” she snapped, causing Spencer to flush with embarrassment. Their relationship had shifted since the night at Emily’s cabin, sure, but he’d like to believe that he wouldn’t cheat on his wife like that, not with someone like him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “Mrs. Hotchner, your husband and I are just friends, I see him as a mentor. Our relationship is strictly professional, and I am so, so sorry if you’d thought otherwise,” he stumbled, each word lingering. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Strictly professional includes huddling in a bed in Nevada three days ago, surely. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Haley stared at him blankly, sighing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god, Dr. Reid, I’m so sorry that I assumed,” she started, fumbling around the oven. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t apologize, it’s alright, Mrs. Hotchner,” he reassured, a terrible feeling in his stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haley. God, accept my apology, please,” she whispered, utterly embarrassed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>      “Haley, I accept your apology. Now, can I help out here?” he asked, a question more directed towards himself out of subconscious guilt. He was asked to garnish the food with what he deemed fit, bringing the hot pan inside with him quickly. They finished their meals two hours earlier, everyone gathered in the living room, the walls filled with tipsy chatter. Guests trickled out minutes apart, finally leaving the married couple alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like Emily, she’s darling,” she decided, putting away the last of the dishes. Aaron looked up at her with a smile, nodding intently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad, she’s a valuable asset to the BAU and a good friend,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The nanny’s dropping Jack off to school in the morning, we have the house to ourselves,” she said after a moment, inching closer to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds good,” he murmured, picking her up swiftly and walking her up to the bedroom. The only affair Aaron would be having was with his work, and as much as she despised the thought, it was better than his other option. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>so like i really liked the idea of a model home that haley had in cannon, although it was the downfall of their marriage in the end and caused a lot of toxicity. i don't hate haley but i don't like her either, so it was interesting to write about her and empathize. the story is gonna return to the day before reid and hotch go back to work officially , and i plan to at least try to make it an angsty dumpster fire. leave some kudos and comment if you'd like to see it :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. six feet under</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Reid was sprawled out on his bed when he had heard voices come from down the hall. He immediately forced his eyes open, knee shooting out messages of pain when he jolted to his feet. He screamed out in pain, grabbing his nightstand for support. He opened the drawer and pulled out his revolver, limping over to the bedroom door. “George Foyet, FBI!” He screamed, kicking the door open in panic. He nearly squeezed the trigger when he saw Emily’s tired face meet his, her hands up urgently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spencer, it’s me,” she rushed, voice low and urgent. He lowered the gun from her head, still not putting it down. “That was just Rossi on the phone, it’s just me, Emily,” she explained, setting down her bag in the hallway. The gun fell to the floor cooly, shaking on the hardwood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” he muttered, picking up his revolver and shuffling back into the room and placing it into his safe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re good here, he can’t find you,” she reminded him, helping the younger man into the living room with an arm slung over him. “Nothing bad can happen to you when I’m around, don’t forget it, glasses,” her smile was warm and loving, relieving his posture. She set him down on the couch, waddling over to turn on the coffee machine he had ordered. “I’ll make us both a macchiato. I forgot to ask, do you like the view?” she whispered, causing Reid to lookup out the large window and to Capitol Hill across the river. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do. We should paint it tomorrow, I got watercolors the other day. How was the case?” he asked eventually. This was the second case she had been out on during his medical leave, which would thankfully be over tonight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We got the kid in time, are you sure it was a good idea going out now?” she sighed, handing him a hot plate with a white mug. He sipped the warm drink, easing his mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As you said, I guess. Nothing bad can happen to me when you’re around,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“JJ, Penelope, and I went to see Hotch today,” she said after a deafening silence. He froze for a moment, hands starting to shake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is he?” Spencer choked, guilt washing through his whole being. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He didn’t answer, but we heard him walking around, at least,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spencer, I’m so sorry,” she reached her hand out to his lap, her tone laced with sorrow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t. We shouldn't have gotten together again in the first place. It could’ve ended right there, it should’ve,” he murmured, refusing to cry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you going to tell him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing. He’s smart, he can figure it out. I still work for him, we’re all still a family,” Prentiss stared at him blankly, shifting back into the couch. She felt powerless in the situation, and it was killing her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He loves you,” she decided, smiling cautiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love him. I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone as much as him, either. I don’t think I can ever stop, Emily.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to, you know,” she placed her hand on top of his, stroking the back of it with her thumb. “We don’t ever choose who we love or how much we love them, especially not how long you love someone,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was going to tell him I was ready to get serious, that I wanted our dream to be a reality. I thought about it every morning until Barton thought about that big brownstone and finally having a place to call home. Now I don’t think I ever will.” her thoughts halted at that, knowing that telling him that he was wrong would be a blatant lie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, and to put it dumbly; shit happens. All we can do is reflect and look for the next best thing, trust me,” she spoke from honest experience, nearly shuddering at the thoughts of her past. “Let’s watch </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Avengers</span>
  </em>
  <span> or something fast-paced. We can criticize the mistakes, I know you like that,” he looked up at her, smiling weakly. She turned on the large television, huddling close to her friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Blanket?” he murmured tiredly, shifting it onto the both of them once he felt her nod. The film started, passing by quickly through jokes and the following laughter until it caused pain. He smiled, genuine and warm, deep in thought. “Thank you,” he murmured, pulling her close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What now? I’m just so lovely, you have to be specific,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For being my lifeline. For the shoulder to cry on, for the safe space, for your trust. I couldn’t ask for a better friend if I tried,” she smiled at the sentiment, the kid was like her younger brother, she loved him like he was her own flesh and blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for your trust, as well. It means so much. We don’t have a lot of people to confide in, so I’m so happy that it was you.” she pressed a kiss to his cheek, smiling and returning to the film. “We are so going to kick ass like this at work tomorrow,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was that even a question?” he joked, sleep peeking in the back of his mind. By the time the credits had rolled, the two were sound asleep feeling safe and protected in the best company that they could ask for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two were up at five for the day, mumbling tiredly about what they’d have for breakfast. “I want to pick up Hotch today, I’ll drop you off first, though,” she decided in an authoritative tone, unwilling to be argued with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we talk for a bit?” Spencer asked, placing his fork back on the table and away from his plated pancakes. Emily hesitated in return, slowly nodding. “I’ve been having these, these vivid flashbacks- Dreams, I guess, when I’m asleep. They almost haunt me now,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can go an order you an appointment with the bureau psychiatrist,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a bit much, if I need one, I’ll see them out of pocket,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. Well, we shouldn’t have a case today, if that helps. We can talk at lunch later if you’d like. Or you can catch up with everyone, it’s been two weeks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just might. Would you mind helping me get my brace on before we head out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You changed the subject.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I’ll change it again- I’ve been doing digging into Foyet’s possible aliases and his past-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that’s what can get you killed,” she interjected, tone stern. “Reid, I wanted you with me because I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>how much you value your work and the team, especially Hotch. You don’t want him to find out, so we’re keeping you safe from Foyet here. I’m not a marshall, but you making phone calls asking about the reaper and any possible name he might’ve taken puts you at a much higher risk than you’re at already, and I can’t lose you,” her hand reached from across the breakfast table, her thumb tracing the back of his slim hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ ‘M sorry,” he squeaked, guilt washing over him. “I just want to see him smile again, I want Foyet to be gone. The monsters should be out of the closet and the whole house altogether,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told him he made the right decision in Boston,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was, you were right,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t patronize me,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not,” she said, finishing her food and stacking the silverware together and over to the dishwasher. “Since we’re just word vomiting back and forth, are you done with your work for the semester?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am, all the credits are actually accounted for. My diploma should be at the apartment by now,” he smiled, limping over to fix up the couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll swing by and pick it up this week, which one is this for, again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The undergrad in Classics. I’m likely going for a BS in neuroscience next.” he pondered aloud, folding a throw blanket gently and placing it back onto the cushion. “It might be useful for application at work,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You got the scholarship?” She asked from Reid’s side, the both of them struggling up the stairs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” he said teasingly, Spencer was incredibly intelligent and an even better writer, able to coerce anyone into giving him unimaginable levels of free education. “When I finish that, I think maybe three more majors- astrophysics, art history, and anthropology. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe</span>
  </em>
  <span> linguistics and biochem when I finish those,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No big deal, of course. Picking up degrees like happy meal toys.” she joked, causing Reid to finally smile genuinely. “Those actually sound appealing, maybe I’ll get the linguistics diploma with you,” she wondered, on the fence at the thought.  “If you need any textbooks that I can go out and get for you, or if there are any materials that need to be picked up on campus, let me know. I’ll go alone,” he nodded, squeezing her hand reassuringly. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morrow, fair maiden!” Garcia screeched, shuffling by the elevator and towards Reid, who was currently struggling to hobble into the bullpen with his crutches. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Penelope,” he cooed, opening up a crutch wide enough for her to slip into an embrace. “You’re here early, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hunkules wanted to get in as soon as the doors were unlocked so he could check in on Boss-man. I dropped off some baskets with goodies with JJ and Emily yesterday, I hope he got them. Here, I miss you, come into my kingdom,” she shouted, strutting down the hall. “Does it hurt?” she whispered, pushing in his chair so he was closer to the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It really only hurts when I think about it, which is pretty much all the time,” he said, reaching over to open the cookie tin on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, no. Get away, you. These are for Hotch,” Spencer gaped in false-disappointment, bickering with her jokingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think maybe we should,” Reid retorted, hinting to Penelope to simply leave their unit chief alone. He knew Hotch, he practically lived with him for months. The man was an alpha male, he took incredible pride in his work, and Foyet had made him incredibly weak. Addressing it would only chip at his ego even more, and the stoic SSA Hotchner would fade away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been thinking about it, the entire time I’ve known Hotch- I don’t think I’ve ever seen him blink,” he declared, bringing a lollipop he’d stolen up to his mouth. Spencer Reid blinked, he blinked a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot. </span>
  </em>
  <span>SSA Hotchner stood his ground, staring down the world’s most dangerous, almost overcompensating for his weaknesses outside of work. Aaron, however, Aaron sometimes blinked. Aaron smiled, Aaron held Spencer’s hand, Aaron was dead. George Foyet buried him, Hotch was the ghost in the shell of his being. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. It’s weird,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Classic alpha male behavior,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think he stared down Foyet?” he shook his head, thinking. The Reaper would’ve probably degraded Hotch, and it would’ve worked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe. If it would save his life.” Because, like it or not- some form of Aaron Hotchner would come back from the ashes today and bark commands and deliver profiles, some form of him would still be breathing, which was more than enough for Reid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think he stared the whole time, like with each stab?” she whispered, hand in a fist bobbing up and down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no idea,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he ok?” she rushed, leaning forward. He wasn’t ok, he wouldn’t ever be the same because of the attack. His family has to live in fear, to which he feels incredibly guilty. Spencer has to live in fear, which would likely destroy him if he were to find out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t be, but- I’m a blinker,” he said, frowning awkwardly. Penelope was about to speak again when footsteps approached the door, followed by it swinging open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Derek had helped Reid up the stairs of the jet, placing him down on the lounge across from the tables. “You’re good here?” Spencer nodded in response, placing his crutches close to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Prentiss and Hotch should be here soon, let’s just debrief,” Rossi announced, theories and comments floating back and forth. JJ had announced the name of the liaison for the team to remember, interrupted by the sound of Emily and the unit chief entering the cabin. Reid flinched in his seat when he saw the state that his lover was in, disheveled, and almost like an apparition of himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long do you have that?” he’d asked, taking a seat and avoiding eye contact. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not really sure. Welcome back,” Reid smiled warmly, eyes drowned in sympathy. He watched the man for nearly the entire flight, noticing his closed-off demeanor and slumped posture, it had almost scared him. He was irritable, gated, entirely gone. Prentiss witnessed the interaction, quickly flipping her phone open to ask if he was alright. Reid unpocketed his device before quickly typing his response. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s dead, and I didn’t even get to say goodbye.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>idk if i want to continue this if nobody's reading or likes it lmfao pls lmk if i should :))</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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